#but you know what. it was driven by love. proof of someone feeling so passionately abt smth they'd save it to hold close forever

[hua-fei-hua]

someday, i hope that my collections of downloaded fanart will be found n looked through by an archivist, or a historian, or something, and that someday, someone will look through it all and marvel at how passionate of creatures we human beings are

#absolutely exhausted by the time i spent going through twt gathering fanart for hours upon hours straight #but you know what. it was driven by love. proof of someone feeling so passionately abt smth they'd save it to hold close forever #yes being in fandom means i'm a lunatic by most social standards but it can never be said that i do not love most ardently #花話 #i might be off tumblr in general for the next few days from the exhaustion of it all tho. i just wanna curl up n write fic for a while #i wonder how many people have copies of my fic on their hard drives.... #i know star has a few of mine. i know i keep copies of my own faves as well (plus a few more) #but ever since the scare with that one fic i bookmarked that got deleted n i realized only existed on my hard drive #(to my knowledge but if you google it apparently someone offered an older pdf version through reddit) #it's just REALLY IMPORTANT to me that i keep personal collections of these sorts of things

[marvelmusing]

Hate Loving You

Pairing: Darklina x Fem!Reader (Modern AU)

Summary: Working for Aleksander and Alina Morozova drives you to insanity and beyond. No one has ever made you feel so frustrated, embarrassed, and unbelievably aroused. Officially you’re their personal driver, but you know deep down that you’re actually just their favourite plaything.

Warnings [18+]: smut, minor angst, uneven power dynamic, the consent isn’t explicit but it’s there, spanking, pain kink, breast play, humiliation, degradation, praise kink, sir/ma’am kink, sadistic!darklina, free use vibes, masturbation, sex toys, sharing of explicit photos & videos, sexting, exhibitionism, fingering/double penetration combo (fingering with two people’s fingers), choking, bondage, dacryphilia, hair pulling, spitting, car sex, oral sex, unprotected sex, size kink, darklina are what I’m deciding to call ‘deliciously awful’ in this AU. If I’ve missed anything let me know.

@becauseicantthinkwritings <- chelsea, your tag as requested, enjoy x

A/N: there is most definitely typos in this fic, but it’s way too long for me to do a full proof read at the moment so I’ll probably fix those later

My Masterlist

Aleksander Morozova is one of the most insufferable men you’ve ever met. He’s cold and curt and there’s a dark glimmer in his eyes whenever someone else experiences humiliation or disgrace. His wife isn’t any better. Alina Morozova’s words are always sharp, her smirk ever present and your skin crawls whenever her attention lingers on you.

They are both ridiculously attractive, but it doesn’t make working for the couple any more bearable. If anything - it makes it worse. As their personal driver, you’re at their beck and call every hour of the day.

Aleksander owns his own luxury car business, working as both the CEO and lead designer. As a result, the entire contents of their home garage is Morozova cars. It pains you to admit it, but his cars are the nicest you’ve ever driven.

They are both borderline arrogant about their riches, utterly confident in their status as one of Ravka’s wealthiest couples. The way Aleksander looks down at you makes you burn from the inside. Alina always traces her hand over your shoulder as she climbs out of the car, perfectly manicured nails scraping over your clothing. She tosses her car keys deliberately to the side of you, so that you have to bend down to retrieve them.

The two of them are particularly fond of car sex, a discovery you had made during your first week working for them.

“Sasha, please, I want your cock in me,” Alina pleads quietly, her voice breathy as she grinds down on her husband’s lap.

Heart pounding, you slowly inch your finger towards the button that will lift the screen between where you’re sitting at the wheel and where the two of them are kissing passionately on the back seat of the car. There’s a low mechanic hum as the screen begins to rise and you flinch at the sound.

Subconsciously, you glance up at the rearview mirror, meeting the intense gaze of both Aleksander and Alina.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” he asks sharply. Words fade on the tip of your tongue as you struggle to gather up an explanation.

“I was- I was just going to give you some privacy, sir.”

“Did we ask for such a thing?”

“Well, no, but I thought-” He clicks his tongue at you disapprovingly.

“Don’t think. Keep your eyes on the road.”

He had then preceded to fuck his wife slowly, easing Alina onto his cock, and you had seen every second of it in the tiny mirror above your head. Her dark eyes widening at the stretch of him pushing into her cunt. Her brows creasing as he thumbed at her sensitive clit. Her plush lips parting as she gasped and moaned.

The sound of her whining for more, the slap of skin against skin, and the lewd sloppiness gathering between her thighs now lives in the back of your mind. Every time you attempt to touch yourself, a heavy breath or the sound of your slick-covered fingers will have your mind falling back onto Alina and Aleksander.

At first you had resisted these thoughts. Pushing away the idea of Aleksander fucking you against the hood his car, or Alina sucking hard on your clit with the intention of making you squirt over the backseat of her car. None of their drivers had ever been allowed in their house, but occasionally the thought of being in their bed crosses your mind as a moment of indulgence.

The desire you feel around them doesn’t often distract you while working, since their behaviour usually manages to taper any arousal that might arise in you.

“What are you doing here?” Aleksander asks. There’s no care or even curiosity in his voice - only what sounds like a mixture of boredom and annoyance.

A frown creases at your brows as you turn to watch him walk through his garage, Alina close behind him. They’re both dressed for dinner - Aleksander’s usual black suit and tie and a low cut dress of deep midnight blue for Alina. The click of her heels echoes over smooth concrete.

“You called for me.”

The corner of Aleksander’s mouth twitches as he rounds one of his cars, the lights flashing as he unlocks the vehicle.

“And like a little puppy, you came for us.”

There’s something warm yet mocking in his voice and Alina laughs while your cheeks burn with embarrassment. She grins at the sight of you so flushed and frustrated - once again they’ve ruined your night by calling you in only to dismiss you once you arrive.

“We won’t be needing you tonight,” she informs you, shooting her husband a grin as she slips into the car.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Right now, frustration is crawling under your skin, your fingers drumming against the steering wheel as you wait for the traffic ahead of you to move. Alina giggles from the backseat and the muscle in your jaw tightens. The sound of lips meeting makes something sharp stir in your stomach and you fight the urge to look in the rearview mirror.

Aleksander and Alina have a guest with them.

Zoya Nazyalensky. A tight silver dress clinging to her every curve, bronze thighs on display as the fabric slides upwards. Alina’s hand is settled on her legs, gliding upwards as they kiss. Aleksander grips the back of Zoya’s neck, fingers threading through her dark locks as he takes control of the kiss between her and his wife.

As much as you had fantasised about it late at night, you hadn’t even considered the fact that the couple might want to bring another person into their bed. The fact that they had picked someone as alluring as Zoya has your stomach sinking.

Alina moans softly and you press your knees together. It doesn’t help that you had been on a date when they had called for you to drive them home - meaning you’re not wearing your usual work attire. The bare skin of your thighs brush together and sparks thrum up to your cunt at the barest hint of contact. The date hadn’t been going particularly well, but you had still been hoping to take the girl home for some fun.

Instead, you’re working, listening to Aleksander and Alina enjoy the company of another person - a person who isn’t you. Not that you stand much of a chance, competing with someone like Zoya. A silly sense of disappointment settles in your chest.

Red lights catch the corner of your vision. It’s barely even a conscious thought, your foot landing heavily on the break pedal. There’s a halt in the low conversation and soft giggles that had been occurring in the backseat. The ringing in your ears echoes in the silence as you wait for the lights to change.

Aleksander murmurs something to Zoya and Alina laughs. Too busy trying to focus on the road and calm your pounding heart, you can’t work out what any of them are saying - though you aren’t sure you want to hear them.

When you arrive at Zoya’s house, the three of them climb out of the car as you expected. But what you hadn’t expected was for Aleksander to reach around your seat and place a firm hand on your shoulder. You know he feels you startle at the contact.

“Keep the car running for us.”

Alina’s hands wander as she bids Zoya a good night, and stupid, shameful tears burn in the back of your eyes as you watch them in the wing mirror of the car. Aleksander takes Zoya’s chin between his fingers, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips and you force yourself to look away.

The drive to Aleksander and Alina’s house is mostly silent. The two of them exchange knowing looks that have nerves coursing beneath your skin. On several occasions, you catch Alina watching you with a smirk that makes you shiver. Aleksander seems as composed as ever, though there’s a glint in his eyes whenever he manages to hold your gaze.

The silence continues as you arrive at their front gates and as you drive into their large garage. They both get out first and you sit in the empty car for a moment to compose yourself. When you manage to gain enough courage to get out, you find the two of them waiting for you.

No words are exchanged as you walk by them both, heading towards your own car at the very end of the garage. The weight of their combined gaze makes you shiver. Aleksander’s voice is dark as he speaks in a low tone.

“You were sloppy tonight.”

The bottom of your stomach sinks and your footsteps halt.

“I’m sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”

“No. It won’t.” His response makes you look at him. “Lift your skirt up.”

Bafflement splays itself over your features as you turn your head to look at them both, blinking at his request. Embarrassment burns through your body when you remember you aren’t wearing any panties.

Warmth spreads over your cheeks as you do as he says, the cool air meeting your bare skin. At the sight of your bare lower half, Alina wolf-whistles lowly, a wide grin tugging at her lips, and your gaze drops to the concrete.

“Turn around,” Aleksander orders.

Vulnerability prickles over your skin as you turn, giving your back to Aleksander.

“Sir-”

“Bend over.”

“What?”

He places his hand on the nape of your neck, squeezing firmly and the force of his hand on your body has you tensing as your body submits to him.

“Bend over.”

He smacks your ass hard and a startled whimper escapes from the back of your throat. He does it again, a sharp sting burning over your skin in the wake of his hand. The metal ring on his smallest finger bites into your skin and a shudder rolls down your spine. Tears gather in your eyes, humiliation and desperate arousal filling your entire body, and the skin tingles from the impact of his hand as he hits you again.

He spreads your cheeks, pinching the flushed skin as he inspects the glistening slick gathered between your folds. With your cunt exposed, he lands another smack to your most sensitive area, his fingertips a hairsbreadth away from your clit and a wretched noise startles itself from deep in your chest.

“Please, sir,” you whine. They both laugh.

Shameful arousal pools in your stomach, embarrassment prickling over your skin as you shift your thighs together to relieve the ache in your core - earning yourself another smack from Aleksander. A broken moan reverberates in your throat and Alina sighs softly.

Glancing up at her, you see she’s leaning against the hood of her car, hands wandering over her bare thighs, fingers brushing gently against smooth skin and you swallow hard at the sight of her. There’s a dark, knowing glimmer in her eyes, mirth filling her expression and your cunt throbs almost painfully. Her ankles cross lightly, pristine heels side by side as she lifts her chin up to stare at you.

Aleksander continues spanking you, his large palms landing flat against your ass cheeks. He changes the speed and force regularly, never allowing you a moment to adjust to the rhythm.

Some of his smacks sting, pain prickling over your skin and dancing down the length of your legs, whilst others thud, jostling your entire body as pleasure rockets up your spine. His other hand holds a fistful of your hair, keeping your head up so that Alina can watch your expression change with each strike of his hand.

Tears drip down your face, splashing onto the smooth grey concrete beneath you and desperation heaves at your shoulders. Over the past week, they’ve kept you working so much that you’ve had no time to pleasure yourself - too exhausted after work to gather the necessary energy. As a result, shameful arousal now glosses over your thighs.

“What would you do if we left you like this?” Aleksander asks cruelly, and you feel the weight of his gaze on your poor, neglected little cunt. Whatever brittle dignity you have left, it snaps in your chest and you beg hurriedly in a broken whimper,

“Please don’t.”

Alina laughs and you squeeze your eyes shut. The sound of her heels clicking over concrete has arousal and anticipation stirring in your stomach. Then she takes your chin between her fingers, pinching hard. When you make a small whimper of protest, your eyes fluttering open, she pouts mockingly at you.

She exchanges a heated look with her husband and before you can react he pulls on your hair, straightening your back so that you’re pressed flush against his body. He wraps an arm around your waist, pinning you in place while Alina tugs at the straps on your shoulders, exposing your chest for her.

She sinks her teeth into the soft underside of your breast and a sharp sob catches in your throat as your cunt clenches uncontrollably. Pleasure and pain blur together as you writhe between Aleksander and Alina. The hard heat of his clothed cock presses into your back and all control you have over yourself spirals away from you.

Alina licks over your nipple, tongue tracing the bite marks left blooming on your skin and your heart pounds wildly as a familiar breathlessness descends. Tears spill down your face as her attention moves to your other breast. An animalistic cry shakes your body as she sucks hard on your nipple.

When her teeth nip at the hardened bud, pleasure thrums through your poor untouched cunt and your body plummets into an earth-shattering climax that takes everything from you. Sound disappears, your vision is consumed by stars and the frantic jerking of your body saps all your energy, leaving you exhausted.

Aleksander loosens his hold on you and instantly you sink onto the ground, pressing your head back against his thigh. He pets the top of your head, stroking your hair gently as Alina crouches down beside you.

“That was a big one, wasn’t it darling?” she coos softly, observing the haze in your eyes as your chest continues to heave.

“Alina,” you whisper weakly, reaching for her with shaky hands. Her expression melts somewhat, into something you’ve never seen from her before.

“Oh my lovely, were we too mean?”

There’s still an undertone of teasing as she pulls you gently into her lap. The bare skin of her thighs are smooth against your heated ass cheeks, but you whimper nevertheless at the contact. Alina wipes at the tear stains on your face.

“I hope you’ve learnt your lesson, little dove.”

“Lesson?” you repeat with widened eyes. Aleksander nods.

“About being jealous.”

Heat burns over your face as you realise how transparent you must have been this evening. Alina nudges your chin, tilting your head up to meet her gaze.

“That you’re our favourite toy to play with.”

“And that you belong to us. Only us,” he adds.

Turning to look at Aleksander, you realise that they must have heard you talking about your date with some other member of their staff. That the only reason they had called you tonight was to draw you away from your date. You’re not sure whether you should be flattered or annoyed with them.

Alina’s gaze is stern as she scours over your face, fingers squeezing at your chin.

“Do you understand that?”

“Yes,” you whisper, voice faltering.

She smiles, ducking her head forward to press a kiss to your forehead and your heart flutters in your chest. Her nose nuzzles slightly against your temple and you lean closer.

“You’re dismissed for the evening.”

You blink at her, feeling her words cut into your chest.

“W- What?”

“Alina don’t be cruel,” Aleksander says warningly. But you’re already withdrawing yourself from her arms, stumbling to your feet and moving towards your car on shaky legs.

Tears blur your vision and it takes every ounce of self control you have not to cry.

“Little dove,” he calls out gently. Swallowing hard, you blink back your tears and turn to face him. He beckons, curling two fingers at you. “Come here.”

He cups your face in both his hands, fingers hooking beneath your jawline as he looks down at you. His dark eyes draw you in, sinking into the depth of his gaze that is the softest you’ve ever seen him.

“You’ve been a very good girl tonight.”

A warm blush heats at your cheeks, spreading down your neck and the only response you’re capable is a bashful whisper.

“Thank you.”

“Do you think you can drive yourself home, or shall I ask Ivan to take you?”

“I’ll be okay.”

He smiles indulgently and he looks so painfully handsome that your stomach flips at the sight of him - a stark contrast to the man who had punished you so thoroughly. His voice is a low coo, and you’re tempted to sink back down onto the ground when he says,

“Of course you will.”

The smile that tugs at the corner of your lips is shy and you can’t hold his gaze for very long, which seems to please him. He walks with you to your car, holding the door open for you to climb inside. Alina trails behind him, gaze heavy on you.

Once the door is closed behind you, he taps on the window, and you press down on the button in the door, lowering the glass for him.

“You’ll take tomorrow off.”

You can’t remember the last time they allowed you a day off that you didn’t have to grovel for.

“Yes, sir.”

“I expect you to send us proof that our punishment was effective.”

Confusion sparks in your eyes as you look between him and Alina. It only takes a moment before she elaborates with a wicked glint in her dark eyes that roam hungrily over your body.

“We want photos of Sasha’s handprints on your ass and my bite marks on your tits. You think you can do that, baby?”

Words fail you, as does oxygen momentarily. Then you swallow hard, nodding jerkily.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She grins.

Even as you begin to drive home, you feel untethered, almost disconnected from your body. It’s only once you collapse onto your sofa at home, curling in on yourself, that you begin to feel some semblance of your own self creep back into your chest. As you close your eyes, you bury your face into a cushion in an attempt at hiding from the rest of the world.

Then your doorbell chimes, shattering your delicate moment of peace with its cheery tune. With a small groan of effort, you drag yourself up towards the door.

There’s no one at the front door, only a small cardboard box on your doorstep. A frown creases at your brows as you blink at it, eyes scouring your surroundings for a clue regarding the sender. Then you spot one of Aleksander’s staff cars, and see Fedoyr and Ivan standing next to it. Ivan looks as gruff as ever, his arms crossed over his chest, while Fedoyr gives you a small wave before the two of them disappear into the vehicle.

After scooping up the box and carrying it inside, you sit down on your sofa, placing it in your lap and peering at the contents. The items you find there make you blush as you inspect each one. There’s a pair of silk panties that are undeniably Alina’s and you bite down on your lower lip as your fingers caress the smooth fabric.

There’s a slightly worn t-shirt folded carefully in the box, a soft grey material that smells like Aleksander. Beneath that is an expensive-looking bottle of body lotion. Cracking open the lid, you inhale the sweet scent and immediately recognise the fragrance - one of Alina’s favourite perfumes. It’s a subtle, and almost primal, claim on you, purposefully wrapping you in their scent.

Underneath both of these items, there’s something that flusters you even further. A vibrator - much better than any other that you own, with countless settings and long distance device pairing options.

It’s these gifts that give you the motivation to drag yourself into the shower.

The skin of your ass cheeks is slightly inflamed and sensitive, so you decide to abandon the thought of wearing any underwear to bed tonight. Instead, you gently pat your body over with a towel and head into your bedroom.

Skin flushed from the heat of your shower, you sit down on the end of your bed, and begin rubbing your new lotion over your body. The scent makes you think of Alina - her hands wandering over your form, squeezing and pinching and thoroughly exploring you.

Slipping on Aleksander’s shirt, your stomach flips as you wonder how he would react at the sight of you wearing it. There’s a dull thrum of arousal between your thighs at the thought and your mind wanders towards the vibrator still wrapped in its box.

Curiosity gets the better of you, and soon the plastic packaging and the box itself have been discarded onto the floor as you study the vibrator and accompanying instruction booklet. It’s simple enough - downloading the app and linking it to your phone. It’s only when you’re scrolling through the app settings that you notice something in particular.

Paired Devices:

- Aleksander Morozova

- Alina’s iPhone ☀️

Heat burns over your cheeks, flooding down your body, and you flick off the app as quickly as possible - as if they might catch you staring at their names.

The thought of them receiving a notification when you’re using the vibrator - and using the opportunity to take control of your pleasure whenever they want - has a peculiar sense of debased intrigue fluttering in your stomach. Knowing the two of them, it’s likely they would use this power to ruin any orgasm you might hope to experience with the toy in question.

The sight of yourself in the mirror captures your attention and you can’t help but stare at yourself. Lifting the hem of the shirt, you blink at the figure posed in the reflection. Skin bright and glossy, widened eyes admiring the wild smattering of marks blossoming over your breasts, created by Alina’s teeth.

Dragging your lower lip between your teeth, you glance at your phone, remembering Aleksander’s demand regarding the effectiveness of their punishment. The skin of your ass cheeks is still tender, slightly uncomfortable against the rough texture of your old cotton sheets.

Turning your body, you snap a few photos of your figure in the mirror, darkened bruises forming on your skin from Aleksander’s firm hand. Almost entranced by the images you’ve captured, you take a few close-ups of your breasts, focusing on the dark arches pressed into your skin by Alina’s teeth.

It’s as you’re admiring the photos that your phone buzzes with a text message.

Aleksander M: Did you receive our delivery, little dove?

You: yes

You: thank you sir

With shaky hands, you click on a selection of your favourite photos taken tonight, and press send. There’s a few seconds before the read receipt appears beneath your message and the anticipation becomes too much. Squeezing your eyes shut, you click your phone off and place it face down on your bed.

Then there’s a soft buzz.

Aleksander M: Good girl

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Sliding your hands slowly up your body, you squeeze at your breasts, groping the sensitive flesh before you grasp lightly at your nipples. Sparks of pleasure thrums beneath your skin, need gathering between your thighs as you indulge yourself.

As your eyelids flutter closed, your mind wanders to the one surefire way of increasing your arousal. Thoughts of Aleksander and Alina fade in and out of your mind - flashes of their bodies, snippets of words and the way you burn with that dizzying mixture of arousal and embarrassment whenever they humiliate you.

One hand glides up to your neck, fingers wrapping around as much as you physically can. Aleksander’s hand would be so much bigger than yours, curling around the entirety of your throat, and you know Alina would squeeze with more force than you would dare to. A low moan of desperation catches in your throat as you slowly grind your hips upwards into nothing.

Tightening your hold on your neck, your other hand is free to wander over your body, playing with your nipples like Alina would. Slowly, you trace your hand down between your breasts, thumbnail scratching a line down the length of your body. With your eyes closed, you can almost imagine the delicate sting of pain is from the claw ring Aleksander wears on his smallest finger.

Desperate for an increase in sensation, you scrape your nails down your thighs, digging into the soft, sensitive skin there. As the need begins to impair your judgement, making your head grow fuzzy, you reach for your new vibrator.

The little device hums to life in your palm and vibrations run up the length of your arm as you slide it down over your stomach, anticipation pooling between your thighs. Then the toy meets your dripping entrance.

The whine that escapes your lips is desperately pathetic and your body burns at the sound of yourself. Greedily, you press it harder against your cunt, grinding mindlessly against the toy as the vibrations shudder up your body. A delightful haze clouds over your mind, removing everything except the near primal need building inside you.

The sensation builds inside you and eager anticipation rises to meet it. Ever since Aleksander and Alina had touched you that night in their garage, you’ve been unable to reach any sort of climax. It’s only now, using the toy they had bought you, that you’re beginning to feel the kind of pleasure you’ve been craving.

Then, abruptly, the vibrations stop.

A cry of frustration heaves at your body. You had been frighteningly close to the edge. Fumbling with your phone, you check the connection between the toy and your phone.

Connected to Alina’s iPhone ☀️

The temptation to throw your phone across the room tugs at you.

Alina M: enjoying yourself, little dove?

In a moment of violent confidence, you press record, you lower your phone camera down between your legs. The video you send her in response is only a few seconds long, focusing on your soaked cunt as you purposefully clench around nothing.

Alina M: naughty girl

Alina M: are you really that desperate?

Abandoning the useless vibrator, you slide your middle finger down to your entrance, collecting the sticky arousal that you find there with your fingertip.

Alina M: you’re getting off on this, aren’t you?

Shame spills over inside you, but it’s nowhere near enough of an incentive to stop touching yourself. Especially now that you’re slick enough to begin rubbing at your clit, needy circles over the swollen nub that have you shaking.

Aleksander M: little dove

Aleksander M: what are you doing?

Aleksander M: Alina is pulling that face when she’s teasing you

Aleksander M: is your cunt all drippy and needy for us?

The thought of Aleksander and Alina sitting next to one another, pressing kisses leisurely over each other as they send teasing messages to you, has you whining through gritted teeth.

With shaky fingers and a thoroughly distracted mind, you manage to type out a reply for him.

You: yes sir

He doesn’t appear to be any less enthusiastic, despite your rather limited response.

Aleksander M: good girl

Aleksander M: are you touching yourself?

You: yes sir

Aleksander M: poor thing

Aleksander M: you must be struggling now that Alina has turned your toy off

Seeing his message - confirmation that they are both witnessing your unravelling desire - has you increasing the speed of your hand, rubbing at your cunt fiercely. The wet sound of slick smearing over your clit and fingers has heat burning across your cheeks and down your neck.

Aleksander M: don’t worry little dove

Aleksander M: all you need to do is think about Alina holding you down on your bed while I fuck your little cunt open

Aleksander M: I’m certain that will help you

He’s right. Imagining Alina lying beneath you, with an arm around your waist and a hand around your throat, while Aleksander pushes his cock inside you, has your cunt trembling with need.

Dropping your phone down onto the bed, you squeeze your eyes shut, rubbing vigorously at your cunt as your climax slams into you. A whimpering cry escapes from you, as your back arches away from the mattress. The muscle in your wrist cramps, but you continue your motions as your cunt twitches.

Everything is fuzzy, warm heat flickering beneath your skin has you sigh, attempting to settle your breathing. Rhythmic spasms seize your cunt as your heart continues to pound and bliss slowly winds its way through your each and every limb, filling them with a sated heaviness that has you sinking back into the mattress.

With shaky, sticky fingers you wipe the evidence of your climax over your trembling thighs before typing out a response.

You: thank you sir

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

On a typical night out with friends, you’re the designated driver - the responsible one who keeps an eye on everyone and makes sure everyone stays out of trouble. Tonight, you’ve somewhat neglected your usual duties, allowing yourself to be distracted by someone at the bar.

He seems nice enough - probably too nice for you - and he manages to hold your attention for a while, long enough for your friends to slip out of sight somewhere into the depths of the club.

Then you spot someone achingly familiar. Alina.

The moment you see her, your only thought is to catch another glimpse of her through the crowd. She’s sitting at a table in a darkened corner, tucked against her husband’s side. Aleksander’s arm is draped over the back of the leather sofa, his fingers grazing over her bare shoulder.

Alina’s dress is indecently short, and your gaze is fixed on her legs for a long moment. They seem almost glossy in the low light of the club and your transfixed at the sight of her. Her dress is skintight, giving you an ample view of her breasts pushed plump into the material.

They both stare at you unabashed. The weight of their combined gaze feels like hands over your body and you squirm in your seat, shifting your thighs together to relieve the ache that is growing in your core. The marks the two of them left on your body have almost completely faded and you can feel the absence of them.

Aleksander beckons to you and instantly you’re stumbling from your seat, bidding the man beside you a rather absent goodbye before you’re making your way through the throngs of people towards the couple.

When you finally reach the small sofa they’re sitting on, the courage you had mustered disappears and your gaze sinks to the floor. Staring down at your heels, you realise the music is much quieter here, providing a more intimate setting than the rest of the club.

“Um, hello.”

Aleksander nods faintly in greeting, taking a long pull of his drink. His features are shadowed in the low light, his eyes darkened as his gaze traces slowly down your figure.

“Good evening.”

“Having fun?” Alina asks. You shrug lightly, gaze falling again as her stare begins to unnerve you. Both of them seem to be taking advantage of your legs and cleavage on display, eyeing your body hungrily.

When you look up at her, she nods towards the man you had abandoned at the bar.

“You looked interested.”

You shake your head instantly.

“I’m not.”

Aleksander smiles indulgently.

“I told you, Alya, our little dove would be faithful.”

A frown creases at your brows, as you realise that they have been watching you - that they might have even sent that man over to talk to you. Alina hums lightly.

“I think I’d prefer some physical proof.” She holds her hand out, palm open expectantly. Confusion fills your features and she raises a dark brow at you. “Panties, darling.” She grins. “Unless you aren’t wearing any?”

After a quick glance at the small handful of people nearby, you reach beneath your dress and tug your panties down your legs before they drop onto the floor. You bend quickly, scooping them up and placing them in her waiting hand.

Alina tilts her head aside, staring at the fabric for a long moment, a wicked smile spreading over her face. Seeing your panties out in the open, for anyone to see, has shame brimming inside you. She opens up her clutch purse, dropping your panties into it. Then she reaches for you.

She pulls you into her lap, ensuring that your bare cunt is pressed against the heat of her thigh. Embarrassment warms your cheeks at the thought of the arousal already gathered between your folds, now smearing over her skin. Alina’s voice is low and dangerous as she murmurs into the shell of your ear.

“Any mess you make is getting cleaned up by your tongue. Understood?”

The thought of being forced onto your knees, in the middle of this club, to clean up your own arousal from her thigh - of being allowed to feel her skin with your tongue - has the hint of a moan creeping into the back of your throat.

“Y- yes ma’am.”

“If you draw too much attention to yourself, Aleksander will bend you over this table and give you a real spanking in front of everyone here.”

You tense in her hold. A real spanking? Meaning that what he had given you the other night hadn’t been considered a real spanking - despite it leaving you an incoherent mess on the floor of their garage. Aleksander’s laugh is velvet smooth.

“Alina, don’t scare our little dove. We don’t want her to fly away now, do we?”

They both share a wicked smile, their dark eyes glimmering with mirth, as if they know that you couldn’t leave them even if you wanted to. They would drag you back to them, kicking and screaming, and they would enjoy every second of it.

Desire thrums between your thighs as Alina’s hands toy at your breasts. She squeezes the soft flesh absentmindedly, occasionally rolling your nipples between the pads of her fingers as she talks to Aleksander. Their conversation is indecipherable to you, too consumed by arousal to focus on what they’re saying - not that they seem to be speaking to you.

They both offer you sips of their drinks, pressing chilled glass to your lips, and you’re forced to swallow the contents as they tip the liquid into your mouth. It isn’t long before you’re feeling tipsy from the concoction of alcohol given to you - and the intoxication of their presence.

Alina’s hands continue to wander over your body, though she appears to be particularly fond of your breasts. At one point, she slips the thin strap from your shoulder, pushing the fabric of your dress away from one of your breasts. The cool chill of the air stings your hardened nipple and you squirm, grinding down on her thigh. In response, she digs her nails into your skin.

A whimper catches in your throat and your head swims with a heady need that clouds over your thoughts, eliminating anything that isn’t focusing on Alina and the pleasurable pain she’s offering you. The stickiness between your thighs grows until the ache of your empty cunt is the only thing you can focus on.

If you had the tiniest bit more coherency, you might have been concerned by your lack of concerns.

“Darling,” Alina says softly, hooking a finger under your chin. “Look at that.”

She tilts your head down to look at the space between your legs, where your cunt has been leaking over her thigh. Shame prickles over your skin as you struggle to stammer out an apology for making such a mess. Her thumb circles over the heated apple of your cheek.

“Don’t worry your silly little head over it. You’re going to sit at my feet and clean up your mess like a good girl, aren’t you?”

You nod, slipping down onto the floor to nestle between her legs. The taste isn’t particularly pleasant, but you’re glad of the opportunity to feel her skin beneath your tongue. The thought of being allowed to bury your face into her wet cunt makes you moan softly.

She leans back in her seat, draping one arm over the top of the sofa. She rests the elbow of her other arm on Aleksander’s shoulder, her fingers curling into the hair at the nape of his neck. Her nails scratch lightly at his skin and he turns to give her an adoring smile.

Even when all evidence of your arousal is gone, you continue to lick over her thigh. Glancing up at her, you decide to risk moving over to her other thigh. She grasps a fistful of your hair, yanking your head up to face them both. They both stare down at you as Alina threads her fingers through your hair.

Aleksander leans into his wife, nuzzling his nose against her cheek before he says quietly,

“I think it’s time for us to head home, Alya.”

“No, don’t,” you whine, pressing your forehead against her knee. “Please, don’t leave.”

Aleksander pets the top of your head.

“Little dove, you’ve been so good this evening. Do you really want to ruin that by being a brat, now?”

Tears fill your eyes as you shake your head, and Aleksander mimics the motion mockingly with a small pout of fake sympathy. He catches one of your tears with the pad of his thumb, eyes darkened as he observes your pitiful state. When your gaze falls onto the sizeable bulge beneath his trousers, you swallow hard.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper weakly.

“Come here.”

He holds his hands out for you to take and he helps you stand on incredibly shaky legs. Then he pushes the skirt of your dress up over your hips. His eyes flutter closed as he breathes in deeply, his nose almost directly level with your cunt.

“Little dove,” he murmurs softly. “I can practically smell how wet you are.”

He parts your folds with a delicate brush of his fingers, spreading you open with the hint of a touch that makes you whimper for more. Then he presses his fingertip against your entrance and the breath halts in your lungs. He sinks his finger inside you and your poor cunt quivers at the sensation of being filled.

Aleksander groans quietly, a deep sound that makes you shiver, your cunt tightening around the intrusion of his finger.

“Alya, come feel this.”

His words make your eyes widen, glancing over at Alina as she slides over the smooth leather seat to sit practically on her husband’s lap. She reaches between your legs, cooing demeaningly when you whine at the feeling of her finger squeezing inside you alongside Aleksander’s.

Alina curls her finger, stretching your walls as Aleksander brushes against a particularly sensitive area, and a broken moan escapes your lips. She grins at you and all you can do to escape them both is close your eyes, completely at their mercy.

“Oh Sasha,” she sighs. “She would never be able to take your cock.”

A pathetic, breathy whine of protest heaves at your body. Merely the thought of having Aleksander’s cock inside you has your cunt gripping their fingers. He smiles darkly.

“But she looks so eager for it.”

Alina laughs.

“Of course she is.”

Driven by need, you buck your hips forwards, seeking an ounce of friction for your neglected clit. A weak cry of frustration bubbles in the back of your throat when you’re unsuccessful.

Alina’s eyes are locked onto your chest, staring at your stiff nipples poking through the fabric of your cheap dress. She licks her lips, gaze flickering up to meet yours and the hunger in her expression makes you moan.

She smiles, using her other hand to circle your clit. Her smile widens when you cry out, painful pleasure sparking through your stomach as she rubs your swollen clit. After being untouched for so long, the firm pressure of her fingertip has you gasping loudly.

“What did I say about drawing attention to yourself?” she asks, her motions unfaltering and you clench around their fingers once again.

The thought of another punishment has nervous anticipation creeping over your skin. Tears bloom in the corner of your eyes and they both breathe out quiet moans, equally aroused by the sight of your tearful expression.

“Go tell your friends you’re going home.”

If your friends notice anything unusual in your expression when you speak to them, they don’t mention it.

It’s a relief that all Aleksander’s cars have black glass. The moment you reach their car, Alina is tugging you inside, pulling your dress off. The fabric drops into the footwell of the backseat, alongside your heels. Aleksander follows behind you, bending your body over his thighs. His hand squeezes at the back of your neck as his other hand lands hard against your ass cheek.

Alina strokes your hair, reaching out to squeeze at your breasts, pinching and pulling on your nipples as Aleksander continues spanking you. His strikes drive the air from your lungs, leaving you whining and desperate, your cunt clenching rapidly around nothing. The sheer memory of their fingers exploring the wet heat of your cunt has you teetering on the edge of an orgasm. Not to mention their quiet musings.

“Such a filthy girl, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Of course she is, Sasha. Look at the mess of her cunt.”

The rough fabric of his trousers graze against your exposed clit as you writhe in his lap, gasping and whimpering. Sparks of pleasure hum beneath your skin, your limbs tensing as your body scrambles towards your climax.

“Please, please, please.”

A pathetic whimper escapes your lips and Aleksander grasps your hair, pulling you up so that you’re straddling his waist. His hips roll upwards as he adjusts his position beneath you, his bulge pressing directly against your desperate cunt and you cry out at the sensation.

A gasp steals the breath from your lungs as Aleksander pushes a finger inside you. The stretch almost seems too much, overwhelming you in the best way. Still, Aleksander’s finger seems too big for you.

“I can’t-”

“Yes, you can,” Aleksander insists.

“We’ll have to train your little cunt, hm?” Alina suggests, smoothing stray hairs away from your forehead. “Buy some toys to stretch you out, so you can take his cock.”

He crooks his finger inside you and your mouth drops open as he begins to thrust into you, fingertip brushing against your most sensitive spot with every twist of his wrist. His forehead grazes yours, a stray lock of his hair tickling your skin. Each of his breaths flutter against your cheeks, as you pant against his lips.

Alina reaches over, rubbing at your clit perfectly and you begin to fall apart, cunt clenching rapidly around his finger. The wet sound of your slick smearing over their hands has heat flickering over your body as your hips jerk forwards involuntarily. Through gritted teeth, you cry out, and spiral into a dizzying orgasm.

Aleksander keeps working his finger into you, but Alina abandons your clit, opting to fondle your breasts as you catch your breath. She kisses over your neck and jawline, teeth gnawing little marks into your skin.

The loss of Aleksander’s finger inside you makes you whimper, even as he smears the mess of your arousal over Alina’s thighs. Seeing her thighs on display, your slick glistening over her skin, makes you ache and reach for her. She smacks your hands, a sharp sting against your skin that makes you withdraw instantly.

“Did I say you could touch me?” she asks.

You duck your head bashfully.

“No ma’am.”

“Stick your tongue out.”

Cheeks burning, you do as she says. Aleksander grasps a fistful of your hair, yanking your head backwards. He leans over you, a string of saliva dropping from his lips to your waiting tongue. When he releases your hair, Alina holds onto your chin, leaning down to spit into your mouth as well.

She leans backwards against the door of the car, admiring the sight of you looking so ruined with a wicked grin.

“Now, keep your tongue out for me, like a good girl.”

Aleksander grasps onto your hair again, tugging your mouth between Alina’s thighs. Both of you moan as your tongue meets her cunt. She grinds her hips upwards and you lap eagerly at her dripping entrance, feeling her twitching against your lips. Aleksander’s grip tightens on you as you moan quietly. He doesn’t let you up for a moment of air - not that you would even want it.

She groans loudly when you begin to suckle on her clit, tracing over the swollen bud in quick circles with your tongue. Her hand joins her husband’s in your hair, the two of them holding you against her cunt. As you press your tongue down on her clit, she tugs on your hair and the pain prickles over your scalp, drawing a moan from you.

Her breathing quickens, jerky gasps and small cries as she thrusts her hips forwards, cunt chasing your mouth. She writhes, both legs locking around your shoulders, drawing you even closer to her as she scrambles towards her climax.

Her cheeks are flushed, a healthy rose glowing over her skin, dark hair cascading over her shoulders as her chest heaves in air and your heart stops at the sight of her. Aleksander seems just as entranced as you are, leaning forward to kiss his wife thoroughly. Seeing the two of them entangled with one another had desire sparking inside you once again, your mind growing fuzzy as the events of this evening finally begin to take a toll on you.

Alina scoops up a coat that had been lying on the backseat, draping it over your shoulders as Aleksander slips out from beneath you. The scent of the coat immediately allows you to identify the owner - Aleksander. She stays with you in the backseat, while Aleksander moves into the drivers seat. It feels strange, having him drive you home instead of the other way around - as it usually is.

Alina retrieves your keys from your purse, pressing both of them into your hands before she buttons up the coat you’re wearing. It isn’t long before he’s pulling up outside your house. Aleksander opens up the car door by your side, reaching into the footwell to slip your shoes back onto your feet. He extends his hand towards you, helping you out of the car.

It’s only once you’ve closed your front door behind you that you realise your dress and panties are still with Alina and Aleksander.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

From that night onwards, Aleksander and Alina can’t keep their hands off you. There isn’t a single drive completed without one of them pushing your head between their thighs or slipping a hand beneath the waistband of your trousers to edge you.

Fogged up glass and leather seats have now filtered their way into your dreams and there’s scarcely a moment where you aren’t thinking of how Aleksander’s cock feels in your mouth or how Alina’s cunt squeezes around your fingers when she climaxes.

It comes to a point where you’re beginning to run out of panties - since them seem particularly fond of stealing yours. Until one day, where Aleksander holds out his hand expectantly and you falter. He raises a brow at you and a flush rises over your cheeks.

“I’m not wearing any.”

Alina grins wickedly and you just know there’s a mocking remark at the forefront of her mind. There’s a pause and you scramble to think of something to fill the sudden silence.

“I could give you my bra?”

Aleksander smiles widely.

That night, you try not to think about how neither of them have ever kissed your lips.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“Alina,” you whine desperately, as the vibrations inside you rocket up to a level you’ve never experienced before. Gritting your teeth, you fight the tears blooming in the corner of your eyes, knowing it will only encourage her.

“Quiet, little dove. We don’t want anyone else to see you so pathetic, now do we?”

You shake your head hurriedly.

It truly was naive of you to believe that she had invited you to join her for lunch with no ulterior motive. Of course she would use the opportunity to torture you publicly, slipping a vibrator inside you to have you at her mercy.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Aleksander is painfully attractive with his sleeves rolled up. He’s been talking about the latest adjustments made to Alina’s car for the past few minutes, but you’ve barely heard a word of what he’s been saying.

How can you? When his thick hair has been ruffled so casually, his hands adorned with small smears of black grease, firm forearms on display as he speaks. His hands themselves maintain a hold on the majority of your brain functions.

Thoroughly enraptured by his image, you don’t notice him reaching forwards until he grasps onto your chin and your eyes snap up to meet his. He chuckles darkly.

“I see I have your attention now.”

You flush.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

He hums in response, unconvinced. Then he reaches down to unbutton his trousers and your mouth waters in anticipation as he pushes you down onto your knees.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Looking so attractive should be illegal. Aleksander and Alina have tucked themselves into one another, mid-conversation with their group of friends at a gala. As a member of their staff, you’re forced to watch from the sidelines as Aleksander wraps his arms around her middle, nodding absently at whatever is being said.

Without looking down at her, one of his arms trails up her body, casually cupping her jaw. Her own hands cling to his forearm draped around her waist. Even from this distance, through the throngs of people, you can see her back arching to subtly press her ass cheeks against the front of his trousers.

When the thin strap of her dress falls down from her shoulder, Aleksander hooks his finger beneath it without looking, fixing it back into place as he leans in to kiss her neck. Her eyelashes flutter, heady gaze locking on yours from across the room and you shiver.

Then, another hand traces down Alina’s arm, rubbing familiar circles over her bicep as Nikolai Lantsov steps closer, pressing a kiss in greeting to her cheek. Alina smiles widely at him and you stiffen. She loops her arms around the back of his neck and his hands settle on her waist as her body sinks into his. Alina’s dress is backless, meaning his hands are on her bare skin, and a tension fills your shoulders.

When he withdraws from her, Aleksander holds out his hand to Nikolai and the two of them shake hands, drawing one another closer as their handshake dissolves into a hug. Nikolai squeezes Aleksander’s shoulder between his fingers as they embrace and something in your chest twists.

Seeing Nikolai between them both - where you want to be - has an antsy feeling prickling over your skin, urging you to get away from the sight before you do something rash.

Exiting the main hall where the gala is being hosted, you breathe deeply in an attempt at settling your temper. Consumed by your thoughts, you’re caught off guard mid-stride in a deserted corridor.

“What have we told you about being jealous?” Aleksander asks, his hand curling around your throat as he pins you to the wall.

He tightens his hold on your neck, squeezing gently and your cunt clenches around nothing as you whimper. Alina strokes her hands over her husband’s shoulders, smiling at the sight of you so helpless.

“Come on, little dove. Don’t tell me you’ve gone mindless already.”

“Sir,” you whine. He smirks darkly.

“I’m barely touching you.” He nudges your legs apart, slotting his thigh between them. Arousal is already clinging to the scrap of lace against your cunt. “Perhaps a little incentive will encourage you to find your words for us.”

He slides his leg upwards and they both laugh when you grind down on the trouser-clad muscle.

“I- I’m not jealous,” you protest weakly.

Alina smirks, raising a brow at you.

“No?” She brushes a loose strand of hair away from your forehead, hand dropping down to grope beneath your dress. “Then why don’t you let us introduce to some of our friends? Maybe Nikolai?”

A whimper catches in the back of your throat and you shake your head, biting down on your lower lip. They both laugh as your cheeks burn hot.

“Now, are you going to apologise for your behaviour?” Aleksander asks as he releases his hold on your throat.

His words make you recoil instantly, practically insulted at the thought of apologising for doing barely anything wrong.

“What? No.”

The look they both give you has an ice cold shudder running down your spine and you almost whimper at the intensity of their gaze. This might be the first time you’ve ever outright refused them and it doesn’t feel as empowering as you had imagined when you first started working for them.

Aleksander keeps his hand on the nape of your neck, while Alina grips your elbow, and the two of them steer you outside. They stand close by as you retrieve the car keys from the valet, their eyes watching your every move as you shift nervously.

When you reach the car, Alina opens the back door, gesturing for you to get inside while Aleksander retrieves something from the back of the car. She swats your ass cheek as you climb in, startling you, before she slides in beside you.

When you see what Aleksander is holding, a fine piece of black rope, your stomach flips.

“Give me your hand,” he demands in a low tone.

Hesitantly, you offer him your left hand, which he takes in his own, looping the rope around your wrist.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper in a tiny voice.

Aleksander halts his knots and looks up at you, his eyes soft.

“I know you are, little dove. But we need the lesson to sink in this time.”

Once the rope is secure around your wrist, Aleksander guides your arm backwards so that he can tie it to the base of the headrest behind you. Then he reaches for your other hand, while Alina opens up a bag, pulling out a vibrator, and you realise what they’re planning to do with you.

“Please, I’m sorry. I said I was sorry.”

Aleksander takes your chin firmly between his fingers.

“If you had been a good girl, and had done as you were told, you wouldn’t be in this situation, now would you?”

“No,” you whimper weakly. Aleksander smiles indulgently, continuing tightening the rope around your wrist.

“No, you wouldn’t.”

Alina connects the vibrator to her phone, turning it on and trailing the end of it down your inner thigh as she parts your legs. The sensation is slow but it thrums heavily up to your cunt. She turns it off as she reaches the puffy lips of your cunt, easing it slowly into your entrance. A tiny bead of sweat rolls down your calf as she stretches you open so intimately.

A weak cry escapes your lips when she turns it on again. Pleasure shoots its way up your entire body, burrowing into your chest and prickling over the back of your neck. Liquid bliss drops down your spine, blooming in your abdomen as you writhe at the onslaught of sensation. Aleksander watches you intently.

“Shall I tie her legs up as well, Alya?”

Alina tilts her head aside, considering his question, and you whimper. Then she shakes her head as a wicked smirk spreads over her features.

“I like seeing her squirm.”

Alina sinks a hand into your hair, tugging lightly so that you meet her gaze. Then she says a quiet voice that makes you shiver,

“You can come undone as many times as you want, but I want you to know that you’re the one paying for the seat to be cleaned afterwards.”

Shame burns through your body, hot molten pooling down between your thighs, dripping over their expensive leather seats - a custom design by Aleksander himself.

He leans in, his fingers brushing against yours as his nose traces along your jawline and you breathe in shakily. Then you feel a loose piece of rope being nudged against your fingertips.

You blink at him. He’s giving you an out.

Aleksander presses a gentle kiss to your cheek.

“Be good for us.”

This is worse than anything. Knowing that you could free yourself. Knowing that you’re at their mercy one hundred percent willingly. Tears gloss down your cheeks and you know you’ve painted a pitiful picture of yourself - and that they will be enjoying every second of it.

The next few hours seem to drag on forever.

When they return, you’re an incoherent mess. Make up thoroughly smudged, mascara and tears staining your cheeks, and sweat glossing over your skin. The entire car smells of sex; the scent has probably embedded itself into the leather.

Alina hushes you, taking the vibrator out gently. When the rough lace of your panties brushes against your sensitive clit, you flinch and she removes your underwear instantly. Their hands on you are the only thing keeping you upright as Aleksander unties your wrists.

“Who do you belong to?” Alina asks in a low whisper.

“You. Both of you.”

Aleksander kisses your forehead.

“Good girl.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Alina climbs smoothly into the back of the car, leaning around your seat to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Happy birthday, little dove.”

A frown creases at your brows as you turn to look at her, blinking in surprise even as your stomach flips at her gentle gesture of affection.

“I- Thank you.”

She grins, leaning back into her seat and clicking her seatbelt into place. Baffled at her affectionate greeting - and by the fact that she remembered your birthday this year - you put the car into gear and set off towards their house.

When you arrive, Alina takes your hand, tugging you through the garage, towards the door which leads into their house. Her fingers slip through yours as she moves up the three little steps, disappearing into what you assume is their hallway.

Aleksander is there holding the door open, and he inclines his head in the direction of the hallway which you can now see leads further into their house.

“Come on, little dove.”

You blink at him. None of their drivers have ever been invited into their house and very few Morozova employees are even allowed into the building.

“Inside?” you ask. He nods.

Faltering at the threshold, you look down at your feet, eyeing your worn old boots cautiously. Then you glance nervously at Aleksander.

“Should I take my shoes off?”

He tilts his head aside for a moment, the corner of his mouth twitching, before he nods.

“If you don’t mind.”

Bending over, you unlace your boots and nudge them over to the side of the hallway while Aleksander walks towards the living room. He shrugs his suit jacket from his shoulders, folding it over the back of the sofa.

Alina smiles at you, nodding towards the kitchen.

“Drink?” she asks you. You blink at her.

“Oh, um, no thank you.”

“Would you like a tour?”

Thoroughly confused, yet eager to see more of their private space, you nod. They show you the dining room, the patio space, the pool room. Everything is just as luxurious as you expected. The last room they show you is their bedroom.

Aleksander sits down at the foot of the bed, his legs spread comfortably and you ache at the sight of his thighs, eyeing your favourite place to sit. Then he beckons to you.

“Come here.”

Anticipation prickling over your skin, you sit down beside him. Alina retrieves something from her beside cabinet, slipping a smooth cardboard box into your lap. Once you’ve loosen the lid, revealing the contents hidden beneath luxury sheets of tissue paper, Aleksander presses a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Happy birthday, little dove.”

You stare down into the box, eyeing the delicate silver choker there.

“I-”

“It’s just a little something,” Alina says quietly. “To remind you of who you belong to.”

You turn to look at her sharply, holding her dark gaze for a long moment.

“Would you put it on for me?” you ask.

There’s a small click as the clasp closes, the metal encircling your throat perfectly. They exchange a heated look and desire blooms in your stomach. Alina’s hands wander slowly over your body, cupping your breasts and casually circling her thumbs over your clothed nipples.

“Alina…” you whisper in a desperate plea.

“What do you want?”

“You. Touch me, please.”

She leans in, kissing you passionately. A moan of pure relief wracks through your body as you sink back onto the bed, Alina pushing you down to lie beneath her. Fuelled by need, you grind your hips upwards to meet hers as she straddles your waist.

Her hands slip up your shirt, grabbing eager fistfuls of your breasts, searching for your nipples. When she finds them, she tugs, your back arching at the sensation. Her mouth descends onto your neck, pressing kisses over the sensitive skin there. But she’s kissed your neck countless times. Now that you’ve tasted her lips you’re desperate for more.

Even now, she can’t resist teasing you, lifting her head up out of reach as you try to kiss her again. A whine catches in the back of your throat and she laughs softly. She doesn’t keep you waiting long, ducking her head down to kiss you again which pulls a moan from you.

You think you might be addicted to her lips.

Aleksander curls his fingers around the nape of your neck, pulling your face towards his. His mouth moves slowly against yours, swallowing each of your moans.

He kisses along your jawline, nipping lightly with his teeth which leaves a trail of blooming marks over your skin. He licks over your collarbones, a small sound of pleasure catching in his chest. He murmurs a quiet admission against the hollow of your throat.

“I want you to say my name.”

There’s no hesitation.

“Aleksander,” you whisper. He groans.

Alina shares a look with her husband and they appear to exchange some sort of silent conversation. Then she slides her leg around your waist, flipping you over so that you’re on top of her. Aleksander places his hands on your waist, tilting your hips upwards.

The head of his cock slides against your entrance, slowly carving a space for himself inside you. A desperate whimper catches in your throat at the burning stretch and your forehead drops down to press against Alina’s shoulder.

“S’too big. Aleksander.”

“You’ve seen Alina take me before, haven’t you?” he asks, a breathless edge to his voice.

They both share a grin when you nod, reminding all three of you of the intimate moments you’ve witnessed between them both.

After the initial stretch, the wet slick of your arousal helps Aleksander to slide deeper into you, drawing out a near pornographic moan from your chest. Pleasure floods up your spine, filling your head with a heady bliss that clouds your thoughts.

When you glance down between your open thighs, noticing he’s only halfway inside you, a weak sob of frustration heaves at your shoulders.

“Alina. It’s too much.”

She shushes you, brushing a stray stand of hair from your forehead.

She breathes out a soft moan, pressing her palm against your stomach - directly over the place where Aleksander’s cock is buried inside you. When she applies a little more force, you squirm at the sensation.

“Sasha,” she sighs, her voice breathy. “I can feel you inside her.” Her teeth tug at your earlobe. “Don’t you feel full, little dove?”

You nod hurriedly.

Aleksander grits his teeth into a near snarl, jaw muscles clenching as he pushes the last few inches of his cock inside you. He breathes out harshly, a rushed exhale that you feel brushing over your shoulder before he groans at the feeling of being completely consumed by the heat of your cunt.

“That’s our girl. Our good fucking girl.”

His words stumble out of him and your cunt clenches at the praise. He presses a line of kisses over your shoulders, lips suckling on your skin before his tongue traces over the marks left there.

A broken moan reverberates through Alina’s chest, her head tilting back into the plush pillow beneath her head. With her neck bared, you can see every throb of her pulse as it pounds under the delicate skin of her throat. Aleksander breathes out a soft laugh.

“Can I tell you a secret, little dove?” he murmurs against your cheek, soft breathy pants accompanying his words. You nod hurriedly. “Alina is just as pathetic as you are.” His hand grasps your jaw, turning your head so that you’re face to face with Alina. “Look at her.”

Alina’s cheeks are burning red, flushed brighter than you’ve ever seen them. There’s a bashfulness in her expression that she’s trying to hide, but the way her eyes bounce from your chest to your lips - avoiding your eyes - tells you everything.

Aleksander tightens his hold on your hip, grasping a fistful of your hair as he adjusts the angle of his thrusts, filling you perfectly with his cock. The slow roll of his hips has you drooling over Alina’s collarbone.

“And I think I can unravel her just by bumping your pretty clits together.”

Alina’s messy cunt slips beside yours, swollen bundles of nerves catching against each other. The subtle scrape of pubic hair grazes both of your sensitive buds, making the two of you gasp and writhe.

“What do you think, Alya?” he asks. The dark mocking in his tone is so familiar, but you’ve never heard it directed at Alina. From the small whine that catches in the back of her throat, this is a rare treat for her.

Her nipples brush against the soft curves of your breasts, occasionally nudging into your own nipples as you grind together. Each of Aleksander’s thrusts have you knocking against Alina’s clit, violent sparks of pleasure winding the coil tighter inside you.

Aleksander breathes out a laugh, though he chokes on it slightly as your cunt tightens around his cock. Arousal sticks to your thighs, though you’re not certain whose it is. Alina’s eyes flutter closed, her mouth drops open and her brows crinkle together.

“Alina, please,” you whisper.

She bursts beneath you, crying out as she climaxes. It doesn’t take much more for you to follow alongside her, cunt clenching rapidly around Aleksander’s cock. You arch into their bodies, writhing between them.

Alina’s breathing is rapid in your ear, little shaky gasps as she begins to come down from your simultaneous highs. Aleksander breathes out harshly, his cock still rigid inside you as pleasure thrums around your body. He slowly eases himself out of you with a low groan.

“Look at these perfect little cunts. All wet and needy for me.” He traces his fingertip over the curve of your ass, hands spreading your cheeks so that he can examine your dripping cunt. “Which one should I fill with my cum?”

Alina whines.

“I’m your wife,” she protests petulantly.

Aleksander hums absently, mock indecision playing over his features. Seeing the woman who delights in belittling you brought down to your level - a needy whimpering mess - is painfully arousing.

“But our little dove has been empty for so long. Don’t you want to let her go first?”

Alina looks up at you. The two of you lock eyes with one another and one thing is abundantly clear - she does not want you to have Aleksander’s cum first. Her eyes darken and she reaches for your throat the moment your mouth descends onto hers in a hungry kiss.

It’s primal - the way you grasp at one another, hips bucking, nails digging into plush skin. Her teeth nip at your lower lip, drawing a small groan of frustration from you. Abandoning her lips, you move your attention down to her breasts, dragging your teeth over her skin.

She smacks your thighs, leaving a heated prickle of pain in the wake of her palm as you continue to kiss her body. The hold you have on her hips is fierce, reddened marks biting into her skin as you press your thigh against her soaked cunt. Alina tugs on your nipples, twisting the sensitive buds painfully.

She knows your every weakness, but your actions are fuelled by the months of teasing she’s put you through. In this moment, it appears you’re at a stalemate. Evenly matched in your ferocity to push the other into submission.

When you glance over at Aleksander, he’s fisting his cock, gripping the base with white knuckles as he watches the two of you struggle with one another. His eyes meet yours and a shudder runs through your body.

He shifts forwards, moving between your thighs, manoeuvring you to lie draped over Alina with your legs spread wide. He presses the head of his cock against your entrance, stroking it against your twitching cunt, and you moan desperately.

Aleksander slams his hips into yours, filling you completely with one thrust which steals the breath from your lungs, toes curling as you cry out involuntarily. Every ounce of control you have over yourself disintegrates, subconsciously giving your body over to the two of them completely.

“Aleksander,” you cry weakly.

Alina grips your throat, while Aleksander continues his determined thrusts into your tight, wet cunt. The sound of skin slapping and the scent of sex hangs heavy in the air. They praise and degrade you constantly and the burning heat of pleasure and pain swims under your skin.

Aleksander swats your ass, the plush skin jostling with the motion of his hips combined with his smacks. Everything fades away, until you can only hear the wetness of your cunt and the rushing of blood in your ears. The world narrows down to the pleasure between your legs.

Alina’s hands are on your breasts, tugging on her favourite part of you. After months of being denied the two of them, being between them now is borderline overwhelming.

Every time Alina’s lips meet yours for a kiss, your cunt tightens. The feeling of clenching around Aleksander’s cock has pleasure shooting through your body, especially when his thrusts nudge the head of his cock against the spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

A sharp cry of their names, and several loud curses, escape your lips and you grip onto Alina’s waist, nails biting into her skin as you writhe between them, your body hurtling into a dizzying climax.

Aleksander continues to drive his cock into you, wrecked moans reverberating from deep in his chest as he grasps onto your hips. He keeps you held open for him, ignoring your whimpers as your cum seeps from your abused little cunt.

His hips go still as he orgasms, his cum spilling into you and he breathes out a soft moan. Aleksander lowers his forehead down onto your shoulder, damp strands of hair tickling your skin while he revels in his own high. A giddiness fills your chest and a bright smile tugs at your lips.

When he pulls out of you, the feeling of his hot cum slips from your cunt, dripping down onto Alina’s. There’s a dull ringing in your ears and all the tension in your body seems to melt. With shaking hands, you reach down to her clit, using your release to rub slow, slick circles that have her writhing beneath you.

She gasps your name and the fuzziness in your head seems to double in its intensity. Aleksander’s hand joins yours, guiding your motions to help you bring Alina to her peak. She moans deeply, back arching as she succumbs to her orgasm.

Her chest heaves, nipples brushing unintentionally against your chest as she catches her breath. There’s a shakiness in your limbs and you collapse weakly onto Alina. She threads a hand slowly through your hair, tracing distracted circles over your skin.

The warmth of Aleksander’s body disappears as he lifts himself up from the two of you, standing at the foot of the bed with his hands settled on the sheets. His gaze is heavy on you both as Alina nudges you gently, until you’re sitting up on their bed beside one another.

Alina tilts her head, glancing over at her husband. She leans in to whisper against the shell of your ear, mischief dancing in her dark eyes.

“Should we lick his cock clean?”

Biting down on your lower lip, you nod at her with a soft, excited laugh which she shares. Aleksander tilts his head at you both, a curious twinkle in his dark eyes. He smirks.

“What are you two giggling at?”

Lowering your gaze coyly, you smile at him as Alina squeezes affectionately at your throat.

“Nothing, Sasha.”

His cock twitches and your stomach flips.

Alina moves towards his cock first, licking a broad stripe up from the head to the base, her nose brushing against the collection of dark curls there. The soft groan from Aleksander is all the incentive you need to join her.

The two of you lick over his softened cock, tongue lapping up the mixture of cum - both his and yours. The sticky substance smears over your lips and you mouth over his cock, occasionally meeting with Alina’s mouth for a sloppy kiss.

Aleksander’s cock jerks at the sight before him and he takes hold of the base to tap the sticky head of his cock against your cheek. His cum smears over your face, and your cheeks burn at the demeaning action. A delighted smile tugs at Alina’s lips before she licks up the mess from your face with a pleased little hum.

He ducks his head down for a messy kiss. The three of you settle down at the head of the bed, swapping each other’s mouths between one another - sucking on lips and tracing tongues. They both reach between your thighs, scooping up the arousal clinging to the lips of your cunt and sucking the remains from their fingers as you lie together on their bed.

The next morning, you wake up nestled between them both with silk covers draped over your body. There’s a pleasurable ache between your legs. The skin of your ass cheeks and thighs are sensitive when you shift slightly, tender skin brushing against the smooth sheets.

Alina hums quietly beside you, sleepily wrapping her arms around your waist. She drops a light, sleepy kiss onto your shoulder. Her other hand is already holding a fistful of your hair, keeping you close to her.

Aleksander sighs, his hand slipping between you and Alina, sliding down your back. There’s a dull sting when his fingers brush against the scratch marks there. He kisses your collarbone gently. He places a few slow kisses over your neck, his nose nudging against the numerous marks bitten and bruised into your skin from the events of last night.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“What do you think of it?” Aleksander asks, looping his arms around your waist as you admire the newest addition to the garage.

The car in front of you is magnificent, sleek edges, painted a pretty pearlescent cream that shimmers in the cool light. Unlike Alina’s favourite car, there’s four seats, though it has a similar luxurious design.

“It’s beautiful.” A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth at your praise. “Have you thought of a name for it?”

He hums quietly with a small nod and you turn to him expectantly. He shares a look with Alina and his smile widens.

“Dove.” That single word makes your heart skip a beat. Then Alina grins.

“Would you like to christen it?”

Biting down on your lower lip, you nod with a smile. She takes your hand, tugging you over to towards the car.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur @ilikefictionmen @budugu @watersquirtpewpewboomm @mysweetlittledesire @dhampiravidi

S&B Tag List: @motheroffae @daddymaster21

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211 @wooya1224 @seronsalk

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny @two-unbeatable-beaters

#darklina x reader #darklina x reader smut #aleksander morozova x reader x alina starkov #aleksander morozova x reader #alina starkov x reader #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone x reader

[junowritings]

Baldur gate matchups :0000000000

Cool nouns: he/she

Gender pref: no pref :0

Zodiac: Aries sun, Leo moon, libra rising

MBTI: intj-a

How I describe myself: huge nerd, collector of stupid shit, I am both the golden retriever boyfriend and goth girlfriend in one genderless human shaped mass. Girl kisser and dilf enjoyer (deadass men my age freak me out a little but…. dilfs….. explodes)

Hobbies: Digital art, web design, cooking, video games, reading,

How other people describe me (/pos):

- “you feel act like the embodiment of a mango monster”

- “The fact that of all of us (in reference to the polycule) you don’t have an autisim diagnosis is more of a jumpscare than you being ginger”

- “You could tell me the sky is hot pink and if you said it with the same conviction you say most things I’d trust you completely on it.”

Character flaws? Idk how to phrase this without it reading as self deprecating- issues I know I have that would inevitably be relevant to knowing me.

- I lack both empathy and sympathy almost completely, which makes me absolutely horrid at comforting people unless they want practical, logic driven solutions.

- I have a bad habit of seeing my solutions as the only viable solution, even if it’s been proven to be wrong/ineffective

- I can be incredibly arrogant (bordering on elitist) about the topics I am passionate about

- I form strong opinions of people quickly, and they are extremely difficult to shake (a bad first impression with me usually ends in a distain so strong I inconvenience myself to avoid said person, and it’s just as hard to convince me someone I like has done something wrong without extremely concrete proof, and even then I’m inclined to forgive them.)

Love language: gifts!! Usually art, or trinkets and cooking.

Miscellaneous and potentially unnecessary facts about me:

- I really like terraria

- I’m allergic to sunlight (literally)

- My bed is more categorically akin to a nest

- I’m completely nocturnal (re: sunlight)

- I’m also allergic to gluten, milk, eggs, pollen, grass, mold, citrus, red meat, cats, and dogs.

- My cats name is Fortnite Battlepass

- One of the name ideas for him was Dollarama

- I own a student grade microscope

- My favourite passtime is drawing pathetic men happy and in love

- I have Gale’s orb scar as a tattoo

Uhhhhh that’s it :0 if there’s anything specific you wanna know (or if you want pictures of my cat and/or tattoo) you’re more than welcome to ask!!

Match up time! Gotta say Fortnite Battlepass is adorable and only cemented who I decided to go with in the end! Which is,,,

So get this, two nerdy golden retriever partners walk into a tavern-

Okay but seriously, is it any wonder that Gale ends up so absolutely taken with you? 

The moment he sees your collection Gale wants to hear about it. There’s nothing quite like amassing a collection of things that bring you joy and make you happy, and he’ll gladly listen to you ramble about it if you’re comfortable to - where you got them, how long you’ve been collecting, what’s the most treasured part of your collection. These are just some of the things he’d query you on, all the while taking the time to admire your collection if you have it on display or bring it out to show him. 

He's actually got a fair collection himself, though his penchant for magical item consumption may have dwindled his display far more than he would have liked - alas desperate times had called for desperate measures back then. It’s honestly very validating to have someone show that kind of interest; though thanks to his curious nature you two may be stuck in this discussion for a couple of hours. It’s fascinating though! So who can really blame the guy? 

Will actively add to the stuff you collect so get ready to expand the space for them; one of his love languages is gift giving - so if that means getting you some of the weirdest stuff you’ve ever seen for your collection just to make you smile? By the gods he’d gift you something every other day if he could - thankfully Tara’s quick to curb that before he gets over excited and offers to refurbish an entire room in his tower back home for your stuff.

I don’t know if Gale would technically count as a dilf, being on the middle/younger side of the dilf scale (I hc like mid 30’s.) BUT he’s got the soft dad bod, bad puns, a couple grey streaks AND Tara so in my heart I would say this man is on the road to qualify.

Gale would be fascinated to see you at your computer, be it creating art or working on the code for your web pages. You’re practically working a magic of your own on your computer screen, confident in your ability to create and finishing off every piece you create with a level of detail and care that he’s sure very few people can even begin to replicate. And gods if there isn’t anything more attractive to him than someone who knows their craft and is passionate about it.

I hope you’re prepared for an audience because Gale will watch you work, leaning against the back of your chair with his head upon yours or your shoulder the whole time. You’ll have to warn him a couple times not to get too close to the screen because if he gets any closer you’re gonna struggle to see what you’re doing. When it comes to your web page designing, he would try and take up learning from you if you ever offer to teach him some basics - Gale would jump at the chance, actually. The guy’s a dream to teach, but also has a tendency to ramble as he tries to figure out whatever you’re trying to teach him. He also has a bad habit of getting overconfident, which when it comes to coding with him is a surefire way for the thing to blow up in his face (thankfully not literally.)

He absolutely LOVES cooking together. This man spent months being one of the only relatively decent cooks in the tadpole party so he’s got a decent list of recipes under his belt for each of their dietary requirements. Give him a couple times, let him learn what you can and can’t have and what foods you prefer, and he’ll make something pleasantly edible - not always perfect, but damn if it isn’t tasty. May or may not have a mental list of your favourite meals that he’d remembered from passing conversations. He certainly doesn’t use this as a means to surprise you or impress you whenever he invites you over (of course he does). The pair of you might occasionally butt heads over who cooks since he has a tendency to hover around in the kitchen trying to do stuff even if he’s not the one cooking that time.

It’s no secret that Gale’s bread and butter is books and tomes of all design and creed - hells he has an entire section of his home dedicated to his collection. He’ll happily give you recommendations and gift you books that you’ve expressed interest in without a second thought; he’s just chuffed to have someone who shares in this kind of pastime! If you guys are together around the time he does return home, he’ll ask for your company to sort through all of his books together. Sure it may not be the most riveting activity unless you’re really interested in what secret books he’s had stashed in his shelves all of these years; but it means a lot to him to have you there with him the whole time as he (quite literally) rearranges his life now that he’s home. There are some books that while he’ll still keep, they’re better off somewhere else than the main room - like the tomes and scrolls and forgotten texts once dredged up in desperate pursuits better left in the past. He’ll gladly let you fill in those gaps with books of your own, to create a space in his home that’s full of you - he can think of nothing better that would occupy that space than you.

Okay, so that one comment about the sky? Yeah, that’s Gale. While Gale’s not the kind of person to go blindly trusting everything someone says, there’s that conviction in the way that you say things that somehow makes him fall for it every time. If you ever did turn around and tell him that the sky was hot pink it’d earn you an amused snort and a sarcastic ‘haha very funny’ as he looks up from whatever he’s doing. But you’re the one who gets the last laugh because he’s the one casting a ‘subtle’ glance towards the window not even a minute later, only to be met with your knowing grin the moment he turns back. Just don’t let the others know that you’ve got that kinda one up on him, because I’m telling you now - Astarion and Shadowheart? Yeah they’ll be insisting to know how you get that kinda conviction to use on the poor man later.

While I can see Gale as the comforting type when the circumstances require, I also believe that having a partner like you who can ground him back to reality with logical solutions and practical reasoning is exactly what he needs. It’s so easy for him to get lost within the confines of his own thoughts, to allow things to become too much of a mess for him to pick apart and deal with on his own. But you’re a welcome hand, there to unravel the threads pulling taught on his mind with discussions of solutions and things that he can put into action in the here and now. That is comfort in its own way, even if you may not realise it.

As previously stated gift giving is one of Gale’s love languages, so given that you’re very much the same, that idea of making a room in his house just for you may not be such a far fetched idea anymore. His gifts centre around your current interests and fixations - he’s got a good ear for listening out to find what you need and get what makes you happiest. Expect more than a few magical items though - protective accessories for when he’s not at your side, or even items with silly magical effects that he knows will get a chuckle out of you once you realise what they do. Gets flustered under the same treatment however - your gifts are precious, and he feels like no matter where he puts them there’s not a good enough place to show them off and admire them. Always gets this lovestruck little look on his face each time he passes by one of your gifts in the day to day, running his hands along them like the mere touch of them is enough to brighten his very soul.

Hope there’s room enough in that nest for two because Gale doesn’t mind in the slightest. But he will help you to make it more comfortable - comfier blankets, softer pillows for extra cushion; this man spent at least a couple years falling asleep in places around his home that weren’t his bed so he knows the importance of making it as comfortable a place as possible for you (and his joints).

Comes as no surprise that he LOVES your cat, and it’s also no surprise that he’ll spoil the guy as much as humanly possible. Fortnite Battlepass quickly becomes one of the most pampered cats this side of Faerun, not just because of all the treats Gale likes to think he’s being sneaky about giving him, but because of the fact his tower is a cat paradise. Not to mention that cats usually warm up to Gale very quickly - guy’s a magnet because more often than not you’ll find Gale in the middle of work with Fortnite Battlepass flopped across his lap or desk, or lounging over his shoulder like a purring slinky.

The first time he sees your tattoo you can see several stages of panic go through his face in an attempt to remain calm about the situation. He visibly relaxes when you explain, no, it’s not actually an orb scar but a tattoo. Very much a ‘same hat’ moment for your tattoo and his own scar. Depending on where the tattoo is and if you’re comfortable with it, you may find him occasionally brushing his fingers over your tattoo, calloused fingertips following the inky tendrils that curl away from the main circle in the centre. Please do the same with his scar, you’ll basically turn the man to mush in your hands seeing you pay any kind of love and attention to a mark which once caused him such pain.

#baldurs gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 gale x reader #bg3 gale #gale dekarios #bg3 match up #baldurs gate match up #juno art #dude listen the fight between gale and zev was insane #but gale won out by a margin #the line was basically nonexistant #rest assured tho if i couldve all three of yall wouldve been holding hands for this onw #hope you like it!

[foxglovelullaby]

I would like to have a serious discussion about Arven’s relationship with his parents and his parental figure’s feelings as someone who is a child abuse survivor.

Note this will be game spoiler heavy and include discussion of TW child abuse neglect abandonment and fictional character death

Post game story with Arven he opens up to you about wanting to find himself and starts by looking into who his parent was as a person. This ends in him feeling that his parent was a very driven and passionate person who worked hard to make their dreams come true. Arven says it is his dream to help people and pokemon who felt lost and hopeless as he once did. He is going to become a cook with the purpose of making healing foods for folks and their pokemon. He mentions that it might not be as "flashy" as his parents success but it is still just as important. This emotional process you watch Arven go through is the active recovery from child abuse and him being able to move on. Arven is able to stop thinking about his dead/absent parents and find out who he is as a person. It's a healthy process, something he needed and something you the player character helped him be able to achieve. To reflect upon his parent, process the information, who they were, no longer are, and accept that they are gone is critical for his mental health. However I need the community to understand that even with this happening, with Arven being able to move on, that does not mean it "wasn't really abuse" if he "got over it" etc etc- Even though the AI version of his parent said that the real person truly loved Arven, even if the notes in the lab talked about wanting a better world for their son, even if they had a photo of Arven with him and his dog - there is zero excuse for what they did to their child. It is not a matter of fact of "oh well they just didn't know how to show Arven they loved him" or "they were just misguided" like you cannot think of all of these "well if this just happened-" because it isn't what happened. What happened was child neglect. Arven says he only knows how to cook because he had to make food for himself. Arven says he never remembers his parent playing with him as a child. Arven says his parent forced him to take care of the strange pokemon. None of this is okay. It happened and Arven has processed it and is going to move on - which is good - but please do not focus on the professor themselves.... oh they could been redeemed! blah blah, oh but here is all this proof they loved their son - they were an adult, they chose the path they did, they abused their child they were never secretly a good parent. They never will be secretly a good parent.  I'm not throwing shade at people who do "what if his parents stayed together and everyone was happy" AUs, more so I just am not fond of people trying to make his parents as the ones you should have sympathy for. That they are so much more ~tragic~ than their son, or just completely making excuses for their shitty behavior. I am also not telling you who to like or dislike - if you like the designs - I don't care, honestly. If you like the character it’s fine, we are not the same people and we don’t have to be. I just want as a community to realize that Arven's parents were complete utter shit, there is no if, and, or but's about that. There is no reason to cater to them and fuss over them more than their son. There is no reason to act like "oh well people don't understand that they LOVED Arven" because love does not change the fact it was child abuse. Someone can do a lot of things in the name of love, and think they are doing all these things for love and it’s still extremely abusive and traumatizing. So yeah, I say genuinely - make AUs, be creative, rewrite the history to your hearts content! Just remember canon wise there is no excuse for what happened to Arven. There is no magical amount of "but they loved him-" to make the actual canon story better or okay.  It's okay if you wanted better from the character, it's okay to want things to have happened differently, but please do no insist that people think of an abuser's feelings over the abuse victim in any context, especially when this is a parent and child situation. There is zero equal ground between that dynamic when it comes to abuse.  And again understanding the reasons behind the abuse Arven received is important to recovery and moving on is for the best but like none of it ever excuses it... I need everyone to keep this emphasis important- for those who are still recovering, for those who do not understand they are being abused yet, and other crowds who are unaware how serious this topic is because it will eventually impact someone in their life.  Thank you. Note, please do not comment on this with non-constructive commentary of “oh no one has ever said or thought any of this” because I wrote this as precautionary reminder - because Pokémon is such a wide and diverse community and I need us to be mindful of when this happens in real life - and I wrote this for myself because it is holiday season and I am feeling the CPTSD blues.

#arven #professor turo #professor sada #pokemon #pokemon scarlet and violet #pokemon spoilers #long post #text

[amarias-yandere-blog]

THAT. THAT IS TRULY AMAZING!! THE ONE W READER WAS FED UP AND ATTEMPTED TO KILL BEDO AND I GOT AN IDEA TO EXPAND IT

Imagine to his surprise when he finds his s/o dead. They killed themselves. His s/o always despised how stoic he is, as if what he has done isnt twisted nor selfish

How would he react i wonder

So I don't write actual character death in that someone has committed suicide but I'll write attempts for sure. Thank you for the ask.

Part one:

❗️continuation of a past ask on attempted murder❗️

❗️Fictional suicide, self harm, Obsessive behaviors, toxic relationships, yandere behaviors are expected❗️

I do not condone suicide, obsessive or toxic behaviors. This is written in a fictional context. If you feel you are being set up to such behaviors you should go to the authorities. Same if you are dealing with suicidal thoughts. Do not read if you're mentally unwell or currently dealing with suicidal/self-negative thoughts. Thank you!

When one saw Albedo, they saw a gentleman that was kind and courteous of others. They saw an artist and scientist, more work driven then most. They saw a man who wouldn't even glimpse at a woman or man unless he had to make conversation.

What they didn't see was how he would draw obsessively a missing girl. What they didn't see was how he would put different potions into someone's food just to watch them squirm  and beg for his help.

What they didn't know.... was you.

They didn't know and so they didn't care, you thought while listening to the soft snip of scissors through hair. This was all you could think of while you were given a haircut by your very own captor.

"Why so silent today, Flower?" Albedo asked as he held your hair with a soft smile. "You're often more scornful than this..." he went on, cutting off more split ends. You didn't respond. After all, your only task in this place was to look pretty and be his guinea pig. Talking seemed inconsequential. Unreal. Like it didn't matter. Albedo hummed at your silence.

He put the scissors back in it's little case, far from you. Whether it was to stop future murder attempts or to just be out of the way, you couldn't tell.

Selfish. He was so incredibly selfish, you realized as he pulled your head back so he could kiss you passionately. When he departed, you had to struggle for breath. "Such a good girl, my little Y/N." The alchemist murmured approvingly. You hummed a response, having nothing to say.

If Albedo was bothered by your silence, he didn't show it. He just walked away, leaving you be in the now empty room. It was cold, you realized as goosebumps formed upon your skin. And yet still warmer than the attitude that your 'lover' took daily. Your fists clenched in anger and frustration.

That was when you looked at where the box had been. Or rather, still was. The black gleamed as though it were the solution to all your problems. You realized that maybe it was. Maybe the gods had answered your prayers, given you a way out.

It was clear that you wouldn't be able to escape, nor get out of here alive...

But wasn't death better than this? This game of house, where you were but a doll to be manipulated? Wouldn't you be better off dead? It wasn't like you could go home to the people who actually loved you... with these thoughts, was your decision made.

Glance toward where Albedo was working. He didn't seem to spare even a thought towards you right now...

You carefully put your fingers under the flip that kept the box closed, listening to the pop with your heart in your throat. Still, Albedo made no attempt to stop you. Selfish, selfish.... acting only for himself.

This repeated in your head as you took the scissors into your hand. They weren't an ordinary pair, rather sharp and kept so for experiments. You knew. After all, the little scar across your thigh was proof of that. They slowly made a point at the end that would brutally spear through flesh if given enough force. It would take a while to die, though....

Especially if you had to bleed out. He could stop it if you gave him enough time to. You had to be quick and efficient. You had to make sure he couldn't stop you from dying. So you crept away from him, to the furthest, quietest room of the little house.

It was a room you were familiar with. He'd shut you in here for days at a time, a padded room where your screams were unheard. Shutting the door, you looked once again at the sharp pair of scissors.

Your hand trembled. And yet you still prepared mentally to do it. The first stab was aimed at your arm. The next your thigh. The third your torso. Repeated stabbings, unable to end yourself with a slit of your throat. Your sobs and screams were loud in your ears. Apparently they were louder than anything else.

Because a door opened. You felt your heart drop. And yet, a face of shock and horror and fear was on his features. He pulled the scissors away from you easily, you tired and bleeding out- now in his arms. "Let go of me," you sobbed. Begged. "Let go, let me die, let go!" You managed to claw at his chest slightly, and yet he didn't budge.

"Y/n! Stop!" Albedo snapped. He somehow had a potion handy, forcing in down your throat. You felt your wounds somehow close.

The relief on his face was clear. He pulled you so close that his breath clouded on your collarbone. You shivered in anger, fear, being upset. "My gods.... you are so stupid!" Albedo shivered right back.

"And... you're so selfish... I hate you. I hate you, I hate you." You repeated through gritted teeth.

"Don't... don't say that." Albedo whispered. "You're... you're not thinking straight. You're just sick. I'll- I'll take care of you. I'll make sure you- you get better." He spoke with a desperate edge in his voice. "You're just- being difficult." Albedo went on.

"No... I'm not! You're... you're so mean!" You sobbed weakly, hiding your face in the only thing you could. His shirt. "You're so mean to me... you say you love me... but you're always hurting me... making me cry... that isn't love!"

"....I do though. I do love you..."

"Stop it! Just shut up! You selfish bastard!"

He did, sighing deeply. Something soft ran down your chest. Albedo shook. He was crying. And you did too, angry at him. Was this really what it took to get him to realize anything?!?

#genshin impact #yandere content #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere x reader #yandere albedo #albedo x reader #albedo x y/n #reader insert #content warning #part 2 #anon asks #amaria answers #amaria writes

[jslittlebirdie]

A Lazy Morning

Pairing: Soft!Ledger!Joker x Reader

Summary: Much to your delight, you wake up next to J in the morning. But suddenly your insecurities about your body and appearance make you doubt. J doesn't like that at all, so he tries to make you feel better.

Word count: 1,198

Genre: fluffy comfort / self-insert

Warnings: body insecurities; innuendo at the end of the fic, but nothing explicit

Notes: I started writing this piece a long time ago, but never finished it until now. So it's probably pretty bad. Also, I feel veeeery insecure about my softer characterization of J 😶😶 But maybe someone will like it anyway😅 As always, English is not my first language, so I apologize for any possible mistakes.

You blinked a few times to get used to the brightness of the room and yawned. You could clearly feel the warmth radiating off the man lying next to you. And this certainty that J was still with you made your heart beat faster. Because it was not unusual for him to leave the apartment in the middle of the night to go about his business, as he called it. Or even to stay away for several days, in which case you only heard from him when you turned on the TV and watched the news. You hated it so much!

But this morning was different. He must have been really tired and exhausted that he had decided to stay in bed with you. Everything was quiet around you, except for the gentle murmur of the rain and your calm and steady breathing. Even the loud howling of the engines of the cars racing through the urban canyons could barely be heard. At moments like these, you wished time would just stand still.

You rolled onto your side and immediately lost yourself in a pair of mesmerizing dark brown eyes. J was already awake and you wondered how long he had been staring at you like this.

You looked at him and his beautiful features. His tangled greasy hair framed his face like a curtain, the green gradually fading to reveal a dark blond. He was still wearing his makeup, the colors smeared into each other. You could see his skin where the grease paint had rubbed off onto the bedding. You would have to change the sheets later in the day, but right now you didn't care. You only had eyes for the little freckles on his nose that he always hid so carefully with the white paint. What you wouldn't give to kiss every single one of them. You sighed dreamily. J seemed to be relaxed and calm, a sight you unfortunately got to see far too rarely. You knew about the switchblade under his pillow and the gun on the nightstand, but the very fact that when J was with you he let his guard down to the point that he could relax around you and even sleep without having to be on high alert all the time, filled your entire being with endless love. It was truly one of the greatest proofs of trust and love you could ever get from him.

"Good morning, beautiful," he finally broke the silence in your small cozy bedroom. His voice was raspy from sleep, but the playful yet honest undertone was still clear. A sly smile was tugging at his lips.

You snorted in disbelief, never feeling particularly comfortable in your own skin. Especially in the morning, when your hair was wildly sticking out in all directions, your pajamas were out of place and you hadn't freshened up yet. What was it that J saw in you that he thought was pretty? Why did he stay with you?

Of course, J noticed how the demons in your head were eating away at you. But he said nothing. Actions spoke louder than words. So he put his arms around you like a vice and pulled you close against his warm bare chest. Driven by your doubts and insecurities, you immediately tried to squirm out of his grip. Even though it was exactly what you wanted and longed for. To be held by him. To be loved by him. And J didn't like that at all. Not. One. Bit.

"J, please don't-"

"No, no, no! Don't. Move."

His words left no room for you to retort. Just like there was no escape from his tight embrace. He looked deep into your eyes, searching for any signs that you wanted him to stop. Because unlike your words, the expression of your eyes could never lie to him. But all he could see in them was your intense longing for him.

So J began to carefully run his hands along your sides, gently rubbing and kneading your tense muscles. You immediately stiffened at his touch and sucked in air sharply through clenched teeth, so incredibly insecure and downright ashamed did you feel. When J noticed, he shushed you, muttering sweet nothings that you could barely hear but understand. His hands were all over your body, except for the parts he knew you were particularly sensitive to. And that's when you finally started to feel better. To remember. His closeness and soothing voice calmed you down. The longer he touched you, the closer he pulled you to him, the more relaxed you became. You trusted him. You felt safe and protected with him. You didn't have to pretend and hide from him. But sometimes it was just incredibly hard for you not to forget that. Goosebumps spread where skin met skin. Even though a last small part of your mind - your inner demons - still resisted, you could no longer suppress your soft sighs and moans.

J stopped and licked the scar that was parting his lower lip. A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest as he grinned smugly at your reaction. "That's what I want to hear! There she is, my pretty girl."

You frowned at his remark and opened your mouth to say something back. But he didn't give you the time. Your protest died instantly when he took your face in his hands and his lips touched yours. It was a kiss that took your breath away. A wild and passionate kiss that made teeth clash and his scars rub against your soft cheeks. A sensation that drove you out of your mind. But it was also a kiss so full of unspoken words that didn't have to be said out loud for you to understand. Once you learned to read his love language and pay attention to all the subtle hints, it was hard not to pick up on it. You knew exactly what he was trying to tell you.

You let go of him, gasping for air. "I... love you too. You know that, right?"

He hummed as you reached out for him to stroke his smudged up cheek. Then you dropped down onto your back and pointed to the window against wich the raindrops were gently pattering.

"Does this mean you're staying home today?" Even for you, this was a feeble attempt to persuade him to stay. You knew your clown didn't care about the weather. To spread chaos, it didn't matter if it was raining or the sun was shining. Still, it was worth a try. Because you wanted nothing more than for J to stay with you a little longer.

You watched him, waiting for his answer, and of course he rolled his eyes. But then he straightened up and moved on top of your smaller form, propping himself up on his elbows so his weight wasn't completely on you. He tilted his head down towards you until his lips almost touched the sensitive spot right below your ear. His warm breath washed over your skin and sent a pleasant shiver down your spine as he whispered:

"How could I possibly refuse you, hmm?"

#my writing #ledger!joker #ledger joker #ledger!joker fanfic #ledger joker x reader #ledger!joker x reader #tdk joker #joker fanfiction #fanfiction #tdk #J #fluff #comfort

[beauty-and-passion]

A (not so) brief post about my favourite Sanders Sides ships

It all started with this ask:

I just wanted to write a short answer, I swear. Just a short answer with a tiny little explanation about why I like these ships in particular.

But then I got a bit carried away, my explanations became longer and so here I am, writing a full post.

One small clarification before starting: ships don’t have a place in my analyses. If I talk about connections between Sides, these connections are always in terms of friendships, cooperation or familial relationships. The romantic aspect is something different and I may joke about it sometimes, but it’s just a joke.

There is a time and space for romantic relationships - and it looks like that time has come. 

______________________________

Janus and Patton

I've always liked the canonical ship, in (almost) every fandom. So of course I like the canonical ship of this fandom as well :P

Jokes aside, this ship is incredibly mature, very interesting and terribly hard to talk about. The nature of these two characters, their roles and the episodes that had them involved proved how these two speak the same language, work in the same field and, ultimately, need each other.

* More similar that we think

If we look at them on a superficial level, Janus and Patton are completely opposites: one is cynical and cold, the other is a ball of sunshine. One is dark and suave, the other is goofy and bright. Janus' moral is "step on others and only care about yourself", Patton's moral is "help others because they are more important than you".

These differences became clearer over time, the more we learned about Janus and compared him with Patton. However, along these differences, some similarities started to emerge. Some qualities.

Janus and Patton want what's good for Thomas. They are humble enough to recognize their mistakes (the latest example was POF). They have a strong empathy. They’re kind. They’re mature adults (even if Patton doesn’t show it too often). And they both love and use puns.

But that’s not all. Along with these qualities, we found out that these two have similar flaws: they are both liars. They are incredibly persuasive to the point of manipulation. They have a huge influence over the mind (and the other Sides). They both deal with denial.

And this isn't just important, but it's a fundamental point for their character growth. Why? Because if they have similar flaws, if they are both liars and manipulators, then they cannot deceive each other.

And this is HUGE, especially for Patton! By his own admission, Patton lied multiple times, especially about his feelings (the Nostalgia episodes) and his thoughts (the most recent wedding/callback saga).

He always got away with it, because he was lying to other Sides and Thomas. But what would the point be, to lie to the literal embodiment of lies? Janus already knows what of his words are lies and what not, so it would be absolutely useless to do it.

Therefore, if Patton cannot lie to Janus, he cannot pretend everything is alright when it's not or hide his thoughts on a certain topic. He cannot shift the attention somewhere else or let a conversation drop. That means Patton cannot avoid confrontation about his thoughts/feelings and oh boy if he really needs to talk about them - especially with someone mature like Janus.

And yes, having someone who is able to see past your lies means being a lot vulnerable... but also a lot freerer. With Janus, Patton won’t have to pretend to be the strongest one: he can allow himself to be weak and confused, because if he doesn’t have an answer or if the weight of decisions is too much to carry, he has Janus with whom he can share it.

* A foundation of mutual respect

This point has never been fully addressed, but it was very well implied by their words/behaviours since Janus’ first appearance.

The first proof we have is CLBG: after Deceit revealed himself and disappeared, all the Sides and Thomas went through various degrees of shock, frustration and anger. Patton, on the other hand, was the only one who showed a pretty calm demeanor.

He should've been the angriest, considering that Janus took HIS place and pretended to be HIM the whole time. And yet, not only Patton didn't show any resentment, but he didn't talk bad about Janus (even if he had all the reasons to) and he even justified the other Side’s actions to Thomas:

[Patton]: Kiddo, simply put, Deceit is an inner coach that acts with the one intention of self-preservation.

Patton could’ve said anything, to make Janus appear as the worst. And his words could've had a lot of influence on Thomas, considering they were coming from his heart.

However, Patton didn't say anything too bad about Janus - not even in the following episodes.

Then we reach POF: Patton's monologue about his morals went so dramatically bad, he turned into a giant frog with abs and Janus had to sweep in to save Thomas.

In that moment, he could've said ANYTHING to make Patton appear as the worst Side ever. He had his chance on a silver plate: Patton was wrong, he had been wrong the whole time, he was literally ready to fight Thomas.

And yet, Janus took Patton's defense:

[Deceit]: He didn't mislead you on purpose, Thomas. I don't think the little guy... or... the big frog is capable of that sort of thing.

In addition to that, let’s consider Janus' whole attitude towards Patton in SvS: he basically spent an entire episode trying to make Patton understand his point.

[Deceit]: You can defend him all you like... But you can't change the facts. Is Thomas an innocent little lamb? Let's let them be the judge of that.

Why did he insist so much on this? Why not tricking Patton like he did with Roman or ignoring him like he did with Logan?

Because Janus knows how important Patton's role is and his whole behaviour shows respect towards the other Side. Unlike the others, who tend to diminish/forget Patton’s importance, Janus never did and always tried to reach him in the most honest, difficult way: through dialogue and confrontation.

And when he failed, instead of disregarding Patton’s importance, he just kept trying again, until his message finally reached the other Side.

* The perfect working partner

POF proved Patton can't bear the weight of the decision-making process all by himself. He needs another Side who can help him and Janus perfectly fills this role.

But why Janus? Why not Logan? Logan is a very mature Side, he can deal with a lot of stress, he's extremely organized and knows a lot. Surely he can help Patton with the decision-making process, right?

Not exactly. For his own admission, morals and ethics are not Logan's area of expertise (as it should be: logic can’t be influenced by what’s considered “good” or “bad”: logic is neutral). Secondly, Logic isn't an emotional-driven Side: logic is way less affected by emotions than other Sides - especially compared to Patton, who is the embodiment of emotions.

What Patton needs is a mature Side with a grey mentality, humble enough to respect him/not diminish his role, from his same area of expertise and enough emotional-driven to connect with him on an emotional/empathetic level.

And Janus is the only one who fills all those points. Even the latter, as we saw in the last part of POF:

[Patton]: Janus... Do you think there's a limit... on how many times someone can say sorry... before you have to admit... that they're just bad for you? [Janus]: Oh, definitely not. I'd love for someone to ruin Thomas' entire life one apology at a time. [Patton]: Okay. [Janus]: (After seeing Patton's reaction)The reality is that... it depends.

Janus' answer changed, the moment he realized Patton didn't get his sarcasm, by switching from ironic to honest. This is the kind of emotional connection Patton needs, something that doesn’t require words, but a small gesture that says more than a thousand words (yes, I’m also talking about that gaze and the small nod in the end card).

If we add to all of that the detail that Janus can nullify Patton's excuses and see past his lies, we have the perfect partner to help him grow up.

But this cooperation isn’t just one-sided: Janus needs Patton just as much as Patton needs him.

Why? First of all, to have a seat at the table. After years hiding, Janus can finally talk to Thomas, introduce his cynical mentality, make Thomas a little more selfish and help him grow up.

Secondly, by cooperating with Patton, Janus will become a better Side: he will learn to compromise, to work together and, most importantly, to trust Patton. And this is a particularly important point because, as I said in my analysis of POF, Janus isn’t used to trust others and he doesn’t want them to see past his barriers. Working with Patton might be exactly what he needs to trust the other Sides and lower these barriers, even a tiny bit.

* The romantic possibility

Considering all of the above points, the idea that their cooperation could evolve into something romantic-driven isn't so strange. The elements are all here, there's nothing weird to add nor need to bend canon, in order to make the ship happen. Their mutual acceptance can easily become need, learning more about each other can easily evolve into desiring each other and friendship could grow into passion.

And, of course, let's not forget marriage. These two can only end up in marriage. I mean, one is a dad, the other is a mom witch, so they are a perfect match XD

My point is: this ship isn't just a “cute couple being cute”. It's about dialogues. Conversations about themselves, their different points of view, their morals, their cooperation, how to help Thomas and the other Sides. It's based on listening to each other, on knowing each other a little more every day. On being silly together, working and failing together, going down and getting up, because there is someone by your side to lend a helping hand.

This is what makes Janus and Patton the most realistic, mature couple. And that's probably why it's so hard to perfectly nail it.

______________________________

Logan and Remus

Here it is, the couple that blew up after one episode and was confirmed in the most recent Aside.

But seriously, these two have a huge potential - first as friends/working partners, then as romantic partners. Logan and Remus need each other and the reasons are pretty clear:

- Having an interlocutor

Remus is Unleashed Creativity, a volcano of ideas in constant need of new stimuli, no matter if they are considered good or bad. After all "good and bad are all made up nonsense", as he said.

Logan is a walking encyclopedia in search of someone who wants to listen to him. He's pure, undiluted knowledge because that's what logic should be. No morals about what's good and what's bad, no emotions, nothing but neutral knowledge.

Considering that, it’s pretty clear these two have to come into contact. But what would they gain?

Well, Remus would have the stimuli he desperately craves. And Logan?

Logan would gain an incredibly smart interlocutor. And I’m not saying it because I am biased towards Remus, but because the canonical episodes showed us how smart he is. In both DWIT and WTIT Remus proved to be a quick thinker, with a sharp intellect and an even sharper eye. He's silly and over the top, but he's not an idiot and he uses everything he has for his own creative needs, no matter how small it is.

Just imagine this cleverness applied to everything Logan might say to him. Remus wouldn’t be the only one to benefit from it, but the whole creative process and, ultimately, Thomas himself, who will have better, richer ideas.

- Gaining a place

At this moment in time (just after WTIT) Remus has not been fully accepted yet. He is tolerated and his presence is a nuisance, but he’s neither wanted, nor banished. He’s just here and he has no voice on any matter.

Also because no one wants to give him a chance to prove how useful and worthy he can be. Thomas barely tolerates him, Patton does his best to ignore him, Roman doesn’t even want to see him and Virgil would rather not have any of the Others present.

The only Core Side who accepts Remus’ presence and is willing to give him a chance is Logan. He spent the entire DWIT to explain why Remus is useful for Thomas and shouldn’t be ignored, while in WTIT, he said: "There will be a time and place for you" - thus implying that, one day, Remus will finally be able to show how worthy he can be.

This is exactly what Remus needs: a Core Side who doesn’t see him as a nuisance or a villain, but as a fundamental part of Thomas that can be helpful, in his own way. Someone willing to give him a seat at the table (at least in the future). And, most importantly, someone who is powerful enough to control him.

Remus is and will always be a force of nature. He will never rest or stop being chaotic. This is why he needs someone strong by his side, someone who can’t be overcomed by his dark thoughts and that can put him back on track if necessary. And Logan proved to be perfect for this role not once, but twice.

- Understanding on a deeper level

However this cooperation won’t be beneficial just for Remus. As I said before, Remus could be a clever interlocutor for Logan. And this cleverness isn’t just related to creativity, but also to emotional understanding.

The Core Sides have known Logan for almost thirty years and yet, they have no idea of the inner turmoil raging inside him. They keep ignoring and dismissing him, clearly thinking everything is fine.

It took Remus one single day to realize what Logan’s problem is, how deeply frustrated he is and how much he’s actually angry at Thomas. Less than 24 hours and Remus knows Logan better than his long time friends.

That’s exactly what Logan needs. Someone sharp enough to notice his behaviour, find out the root of the problem and make Logan face it, instead of dismissing it because who cares (yes, Roman, I am talking about you and your “You'll be fine, Rome didn't fall in a day.”)

- The romantic possibility

I think almost all the fandom agrees that these two would have a great sex life. After all, Remus is the embodiment of Thomas' sexual urges, so he would definitely go for a very physical relationship.

But having a good sex life implies a lot of other great things: good chemistry, no comunication issues, great stability and greater trust. And, even more important, the desire to try new things together. Logan and Remus are both very curious Sides, they both want to know new things and experience them: so their relationship would probably be based on discussing new ideas, testing them and finding out together if they are good or not.

And this doesn't apply to just the sexual aspect: even just the romantic aspect or the working aspect of their relationship could have these characteristics. Logan and Remus can motivate each other, learn from one another and find new things together. They are clever enough to stimulate each other's mind, curious enough to do stuff together to learn something new and honest enough to not withdraw their opinions on any matter.

______________________________

Roman and Virgil

I am just recently starting to warm up to this couple, so I will keep this part short.

Just as it was for the previous two couples, these two can work together because canon made them work. The first part of their whole relationship is already all canonically established: at first Roman saw Virgil as a villain, then he slowly realized he could be a friend. Now moving from friends to lovers isn’t so difficult.

^ No need to demonstrate

Roman needs someone like Virgil, because Virgil is on his same level. Sure, Virgil’s mentality is way more gray-ish, but he still has a lot to learn, just like Roman.

Having someone on his side, who is on his same level is a huge relief: with Virgil, Roman doesn't have to pretend, nor to show off, nor to be dashing and perfect all the time. He knows Virgil won't care less, so he can relax. And for someone who is used to working all the time, having a moment of quiet with someone who has zero espectations is exactly what Roman needs.

Same goes for Virgil: he knows Roman won't care if he's gloomy and dark, because Roman already saw that side of him and appreciates him anyway. So no need to pretend to be different. He can relax too. And, because of his anxious nature, relaxing is exactly what he also needs.

So if they both need to relax, that implies they also need time to do it. And without expectations, without feeling like the other “is better than me and I’m slowing him down”, they can really take all the time they need, to grow at their own pace.

^ Growing together

Virgil and Roman’s is not a one-sided relationship, in which one knows more than the other and helps the other reach his level: since they are on the same level, if one of them learns something new, then it’s a victory for them both, because the other will be motivated to do more/learn more as well.

This isn’t just something I think, but something we saw in canon. During AA-part 2, Roman clearly stated that Virgil “make us... better”, thus implying that Virgil acted as a motivator for him.

Then we had FWSA and here we saw this sentence applied the other way around: Roman was the motivator and, thanks to him, Virgil overcame his own anxiety to push Thomas towards Nico. The final result was a victory for them both: Roman got the romance he’s desperately craving, Virgil found out a new aspect of himself: his bravery.

^ The romantic possibility

These two are a walking “enemies to friends to lovers” trope, so I don’t think there’s anything else to add XD

Only that they would both be quite passionate. One is Thomas’ romantic side, the other is heavily influenced by emotions: if the good one takes Virgil, he would probably be a very passionate partner.

______________________________

Two couples I understand

Janus and Remus -> I understand the appeal of this one and it would kinda make sense, especially from Remus’ point of view. Remus has (probably) sexual fantasies about anything, so I wouldn't be too surprised if he has a whole collection of sexual fantasies about the Side who is closest to him.

But also, I see them too much like father and son/bestest friends to imagine them having a romantic relationship.

So my take is more like that: Remus has sexual fantasies about Janus, just like he has sexual fantasies about anyone. They are his way to show his affection, how much he cares about Janus and wants to protect him.

But Remus is Remus and he's prone to lose control. That's why, since he reached adolescence and started to develop the sexual aspect, Janus put clear limits that give Remus enough space to express his fantasies, but never past a certain point.

So Remus can be very touchy (because, well, he's Remus) and extremely physical in showing his affections, but never go below a certain point. He can talk in full details about all his sexual fantasies to Janus, but never try to sexually force him. He can try to seduce him or propose sexual things, but never pretend he will accept.

And so, over time, it became a sort of internal joke between them: Remus tells his fantasies at the breakfast table, while Janus rolls his eyes with a "very interesting", they have a laugh, they keep going with their day. Remus wants to cuddle, Janus will cuddle. Remus proposes sex, Janus will just laugh and give him a forehead kiss.

In other words, they are the kind of friends who you can find sprawled on a couch, one on top of the other and imagine they're a couple, while that's just how they read a book together.

Logan and Roman -> This couple isn’t bad at all and I really like the idea of these two having a sorta-romantic crush on each other. It can lead to a lot of poetic/romantic possibilities.

The only problem is: Logan is logic, therefore he would destroy all the romance with one sentence XD and the romantic, poetic scene evoked would turn into these two arguing like madmen.

So, well, maybe the hate-sex would be great, but they would definitely spend too much time arguing. Still, I am very curious about it, so I will keep searching for stuff about them.

#sanders sides ships #sanders sides #janus sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #moceit #intrulogical #prinxiety #and a sprinkle of #dukeceit #logince #I know I have pretty basic tastes #it takes me a lot to warm to a couple #I blame the fandom for making these so appealing #i couldn't help myself

[imbellarosa]

Let’s Talk Calm-ly about Two Loves

OR: When you’re a grown man who writes stories for a living, you definitely wrote your own weird bedtime story, too. 

The TLDR here is that H has taken one specific listener around the globe, notably to Tokyo and Jamaica. He quotes an old Victorian Poet who was an awful human but who’s lasting legacy is the phrase “a love that dare not speak its name” which is - you guessed it - a reference to queer love. He also is super excited to spend what seems like the foreseeable future with this listener and has bought a little house with a garden of daisies with them and it’s very sweet and domestic. Anyways this is a wild time and it’s all under a cut because it’s...really a lot. 

Anyways I think the people I owe thank yous this times around to are @queenlokibeth​ who had to listen to me scream about this for a while, Astrid, who screamed with me when this came out, and “M” who convinced me to finally get to work in this fandom. And, of course, all of the lovely people tagged below who’s work I used to build my argument. 

1.) Who Wrote “Dream With Me”? 

Well, not H, or so the story goes. Two other people (Steve Cleverly and Sanj Sen) did! I mean, right, okay, for a while I was like...that seems like an odd choice for a man who didn’t want to hand Two Ghosts over to his own band because it seemed too personal. He wrote on every song in both albums’ he’s released thus far, because he seems to be passionate about telling the stories he wants to tell (even if he won’t tell you explicitly what they’re about). But for a while, I was totally going with the flow there, and the rest of this analysis would still stand: the writer of this story definitely referenced a poem by Lord Alfred Douglas and Harry’s own songs. 

However, I then read this fun quote from the Co-founder and CEO of Calm: 

“Well,” he said, “The the Harry Styles one is interesting because that came purely from Harry Styles himself...we took the approach of creating a sort of musical epic poem – he doesn’t sing, it’s spoken with poetry, but there’s a sort of musical sound bed to it and it’s pulling on things and themes that Harry’s fans really adore about him and associate with him. So his story was driven really by him – we really created a concept around him.” 

-  Chris Advansun, July 7th, 2020 via @hlupdate​

And I thought, hmmm. This does not sound like a project that he was not involved in creating. From this point on (July, 7th 2020), I began to think of it as a three way co-collaboration between him and the other two authors. But this confused me a bit, because there was largely a nonreaction from the fandom. I was waiting for an actual transcript, because I always fall asleep to these meditation stories, but it was being referenced to as some sort of Y/N fic, which was...honestly not what I expected, but also not implausible, thanks to the ~lovely~ image this man has had since the age of sixteen. But also, twitter seemed to be concerned by other things at the moment, and no one was analyzing the story. . 

In fact, I messaged a friend the day that this story dropped, because it had been kind of a shit show day on Twitter. Rumors were sort of flying about everyone and everything: had Liam shaved his head? Was he engaged? Had he and Maya broken up? Were Zayn and Gigi engaged? Had they broken up? Did Niall have a girlfriend? (this one was true lol). Were Elounor engaged? Were they pregnant? Had they broken up??? My personal fav was the bald Liam rumor, which he promptly put to rest in LP Act 1 by...having a huge mane of hair. 

So then I thought - huh. Why has today looked like this? I’m not saying that there aren’t days that twitter goes wild because of boredom, because there definitely is - the articles about secret meetings in Italy that are coming out this week (8/12/2020) are proof positive. So that definitely does happen, but it doesn’t usually happen on the days that there’s a lot of content. And maybe I’ve just been starved for content in this fandom, but I would consider a 40 minute video quite a bit of content. 

Then the transcript dropped. I’m using two as references - this one on Wattpad and also @carl-and-pearl ‘s version here (thank you so much for the transcript!!). We’re going to get into a more detailed description of what’s going on in the story, but the first thing I recognized immediately is that it was first person POV. I knew that going in, based on the number of Y/N jokes going around on twitter. Then I read it aloud, and I realized that it read like a letter. Like an experience specific to the writer and the reader. And while that’s not super uncommon to write about an experience from the author’s POV - I listen to a podcast called Nothing Much Happens: bedtime stories for adults which has a similar concept - I thought it was odd that they were trying to include both the author and the listener. I completely understood why the y/n jokes were pertinent. But at the same time, it felt like something had snagged in my mind - like a particularly annoying splinter. 

The conversations I was having around this story - completely based on the content, concept, and my own instinct - was that this story contained specific references to one person. I thought that it did read like a love letter, and that most identifying features would have been taken out, but the essence remained. Which, once I thought about it, was something that H excelled at doing. Think about Sunflower Vol 6 and Adore You and Canyon Moon and even Watermelon Sugar and Golden.  Ask yourself, What do I know about the person they are about? They have skin that browns, they have a secret, they have mesmerizing eyes, they’re willing to dance in the kitchen with him (to dancehall), they have a belly, they’ve been through hard times, they’re witty, they have an accent, and they have lips. I know - super specific right?

So the splinter grew into a thorn - what was I missing? And then - when I was looking for something completely different - I stumbled upon this old interview Harry did with Zach Sang and the Gang Show back in 2017.  For context, he was being asked about Sweet Creature. As you can imagine, it’s hard for people to believe he wrote such a beautiful love song when he hadn’t ever really had a long term relationship (two hearts in one home?? Who did you move in with, you can imagine them asking. When did you have time?). So what did he have to say about this?

"In my opinion,” he explained, “I think most songs are written for one listener. Maybe there's one thing in there that only they'll notice about them.... It's so much easier to say something in a song than it is to say it to someone and I think it's really amazing to be able to communicate through that and be able to wrap up everything that you want to say in three and a half minutes and say it in a song."

- HS, May 3 2017

By this time, please believe that I was screeching. Seeing this felt like he put into words the exact feeling I had about “Dream With Me”. It felt like a nod to someone that I didn’t know, which made the story hard to listen to, tbh. Although, I will say that when I did finally listen to it, it knocked me out and gave me odd dreams so. Once was enough for me haha! 

So my new operating theory is exactly what Advansun said: I think that H was the primary writer/the driving force behind the story. Because of the references I’m about to run through, because it feels like the way he tells stories, and because they admitted to him being more involved than they originally claimed. That’s going to be how I write the rest of the analysis - under the impression that H had a direct hand in the story that was being put forth. However, I think that the analysis itself would stand whether or not he wrote any of it. It would just be a more tenuous reflection of him than I believe it to be. 

2.) How Do I Love Thee? In Two Ways. 

Before I jump into the story, let’s talk a little about the poem that I want to compare it to: Two Loves, by Lord Alfred Douglas.  Let’s be clear this is not at all a defense of who Bosie was - he was a terrible person, particularly in his later years, when he’d converted to Catholicism and turned his back on his younger self, and his partner, Oscar Wilde. He was violently anti-Semitic, and turned his back on his own community. I want to get this out of the way because I very much believe that we should examine artists for who they are. That is, after all, what I am trying to do here. 

But his poem Two Loves has often been used - much to his disappointment, I’m sure - as an exploration of queer love in Victorian times. A line that I will be exploring more deeply in a second was in fact used against Oscar Wilde in his trail for indecency . He attempted - unsuccessfully - to explain it away, but it was too blatantly about their relationship for even the British Victorian society to ignore. I really, really recommend a read of this poem, because it is - despite it’s author - a good piece of work, which explores the themes of shame and love and longing between two men in that time. 

I’m going to start with my own background, as someone who’s analyzed fandoms before. I first came across this poem in the Sherlock fandom, with this analysis by @the-7-percent-solution​, when I was running in that fandom, and she explains the poem brilliantly in just a few lines. I’m going to take a little longer to run through it, but if you want a concise explanation and a brilliant meta, I encourage you to run to their blog and check it out. That fandom taught me most everything I know about catching symbols and recurring themes and “clueing for looks” and I love it desperately, still. 

But we’re here to talk about this fandom, so on with the poem! Essentially, the poem outlines a dream the speaker had: In his dream, he’s standing in a field with flowers - beautiful ones of all kind - and he meets this young man with clear blue eyes and bright red lips and they kiss a bit and have a picnic, and it’s all lovely. If you think I’m kidding, I’m really not. Please, read it for yourself. 

Anyways, after they did they did the whole picnic thing, the speaker and his date go on a walk in this field, where they come across two figures. The first is described as, 

“...fair and blooming, and a sweet refrain Came from his lips; he sang of pretty maids And joyous love of comely girl and boy, His eyes were bright, and 'mid the dancing blades Of golden grass his feet did trip for joy; And in his hand he held an ivory lute With strings of gold that were as maidens' hair, And sang with voice as tuneful as a flute, And round his neck three chains of roses were.” 

- Two Loves, 1894

The speaker, however, was drawn to the second figure: 

“He was full sad and sweet, and his large eyes Were strange with wondrous brightness, staring wide With gazing; and he sighed with many sighs That moved me, and his cheeks were wan and white Like pallid lilies, and his lips were red Like poppies, and his hands he clenched tight, And yet again unclenched, and his head Was wreathed with moon-flowers pale as lips of death. A purple robe he wore, o'erwrought in gold With the device of a great snake, whose breath Was fiery flame..”

- Two Loves, 1984

Of course, the speaker immediately asks the second man who he is. The second man says, “My name is Love”. The first man corrects him quickly: 

“ He lieth, for his name is Shame, But I am Love, and I was wont to be Alone in this fair garden, till he came Unasked by night; I am true Love, I fill The hearts of boy and girl with mutual flame.”

-Two Loves, 1984

The second man sighs and acquiesces, “Have thy will. I am the love that dare not speak its name.” 

It was, of course, this last line that really gave the meaning of the poem away. It was the line that was put to Oscar Wilde as proof of a romantic relationship, it was the line that went down in history as a way to refer to queer love, and it was the line that first stuck out to me when I was reading “Dream With Me”. 

The reading here is clearly that “Love” is the love that is acceptable to society - easy, sweet, and cherished. “Shame” is the love that happens in secret - beautiful, alluring to the speaker, passionate, anxious ( as can be seen in the clenching and unclenching of his hands), and proud. He refuses to call himself as anything but what he is. The first man may call him Shame, but he refuses the name, and instead, offers a qualifier to his own descriptor. He is still love, he is just the love that can’t be spoken about. 

3.) Walking in Golden Fields of Sunflowers

Now let’s talk about “Dream With Me”. I’m ignoring the first few stanzas (from the line “Have you ever wondered” to “What the two of us can find”.) because those are pretty standard introductory paragraphs to a guided meditation. So we start with the line “Let’s travel now to moonlit valleys...”. 

I’m going to do the same thing I did with “Two Loves” first. I am going to describe literally, in general terms, what happens in the story. Warning, I change pronouns from “they” to “you” because the whole thing confuses me, but note that I’m always talking about the speaker and the listener: 

So after doing the standard intro, the speaker and the listener take a walk through the woods enjoying nature, particularly the grass, the trees, and the blue sky above. You’re already clearly in love. Then you’re magically on a raft, with cherry blossoms all around you. If you want a good visual for that, here’s a site that has pictures from a boat rental in Tokyo where you can snuggle on a raft in the  Chidorigafuchi moat. And then suddenly it starts raining, and they (you) watch the rain for a hot second, and then the scene magically shifts again, and you’re under a porch (although I guess it could be the boat rental’s porch. They do usually have covered areas). 

Kind of furthering that theory, they then lounge by the shoreline, skipping stones and hanging out, looking at the snow capped mountains. In case you’re curious, because at this point I sure was, you can see mountains from certain areas in the city of Tokyo. 

Anyways, then it’s snowing, and you’re magically in a cabin, just chilling by the fire, and you fall asleep again. You wake up somewhere else.

Where are you now? Well, you’re on a tropical island filled with palm trees. As an American, my mind immediately jumps to the Caribbean, but I suppose it could absolutely be in the Mediterranean as well. The island has white beaches, mangroves, a turquoise ocean, and a gorgeous, peaceful atmosphere. 

If you’re curious as to what a mangrove looks like - and I certainly was - they are a group of trees and shrubs that live in the coastal intertidal zone and Jamaica is doing a massive restoration project involving primary school children to regrow this vital part of their ecosystem. More interestingly, there currently exist no mangrove forests in the Mediterranean, so my initial feeling that this scene would take place in the Caribbean was correct. On that note - again, because I was curious - Jamaica has gorgeous white sand beaches with turquoise oceans. 

But I’ve gone off topic again! After you’re minds are “in tune” once more (trying to find a heartbeat, anyone?), you reappear in a meadow, with beautiful flowers of all kind, where you are now walking hand in hand through a field of sunflowers, which give the feeling a “warm and golden hue”. Then you come across a little farmhouse with daisies poking out (clearly I have no way of locating this anywhere in the world, but I assume that the UK has both sunflowers and daisies). It’s an empty house which was loved and left because of the passage of time, which inspires my favorite line in the poem: “ The thought of passing time inspires/A feeling that grows stronger”. It’s just...really sweet to me. 

So, of course, they do what anyone would do when they come across an empty farmhouse, they go inside. And there, they begin to fall asleep, reflecting on all they have just seen, referencing other scenes of the poem: “ Moonlit valleys, Burdened forests, Gazing at the ocean. Summer meadows, Tranquil sunsets steeped in emotion”. 

The next few stanzas are just going to be copy-pasted, and then I’ll go into them a bit, but this is the end of the poem, so they’re the final reflections;

“The tenderness we feel When we are close Two minds as one Surrounds us and connects us But we’ve only just begun.

For now we dream together Of all there is to follow. And know that sleep will keep us safe From now until tomorrow.

Maybe all the memories That we’ve gathered here tonight Are all dreams now remembered Or wishes in plain sight.

No matter what They’re with us now. For this night and forever. And every time we close our eyes They’re yours and mine to treasure.” 

- HS, Dream With Me, via @carl-and-pearl​

And that’s it! The literal story, in short, is that you started in a forest, then went to Tokyo (maybe) and then Jamaica (perhaps) and then back to a field of sunflowers and daisies in the UK (which is also a guess, it could be Italy or France or Idaho for all I know, but let’s call it an educated guess). 

4.) My Dream Journal

So now that we know what happens in the story, how do we interpret this? Well, There are a few lines in the poem that I want to draw your attention to: the first takes place in the first part of this story, when you’re still in the forest. This is, I must say, the most direct reference to Two Loves in the whole poem/song/story. Both works are describing a walk in the woods with your loved one, and, in a fun reference in the middle of the story, Dream With Me says

The shimmering reflection Shows us smiling from above. But what we think But dare not speak is L-O-V-E love.

-Dream With Me, 2020

Remember that line I mentioned before? I am the love that dare not speak its name. Right, so that’s almost a direct quote. It also has a really fun nod to “I Would” (Would he say he’s in L-O-V-E?/Well if it was me then I would), but I digress. 

This first part of the narrative, I feel, really sets up what the rest of it will look and feel like, in the same way that “Golden” sets the tone for Fine Line. (You didn’t think I was going to make a post about Harry and NOT mention Golden, did you?? If you did, I’m disappointed!!). So  let’s take a look at what’s happening, and the language he’s using to describe it. 

One of the best things about this poem is how vivid it feels. Of course, I’m about to argue that it’s vivid because it was based in reality, but let’s talk about the sheer amount of detail he uses to describe the place he’s walking through. The valley (canyon lmao) is moonlit, the grass and the leaves make mosaics of green, you’re walking by the heather (the symbolism of heather is good luck, admiration, and protection), the sepia sunlight breaks through the trees. 

You know what it kind of sounds like? Sweet Creature. You’re about to roll your eyes at me! I can feel it! But listen, okay?  

“Sweet creature Running through the garden Oh, where nothing bothered us But we're still young I always think about you and how we don't speak enough”

Which, to be honest, sounds like what they’re doing. They’re walking through the garden in the sun, not daring to speak about the Love that he (they both) feel, and instead refering to it in veiled Victorian terms. 

And then we head to Tokyo! I know that you’re about to ask me why I think it’s Tokyo versus...idk, anywhere else? Well, for one, he went to Tokyo (to let it go) publicly in 2019. He was there for a few months, and there are some great pictures of that time: 

Look! Here he is with his club owner friend and his dog, and a fun red bandanna! But let’s be honest, the dog really steals the show here. But wait! there’s more! More dog content, too!

This was on Jan 31st, 2019, and he’s taking the dog for a walk! Very cute! If nothing else, he spent a lot of time with dogs in Tokyo! And the city fits the description of the story. So I feel rather comfortable with my interpretation that this first date is a memory of this trip - or another - to Tokyo. 

So what did “you both”do in Tokyo? Well, chill on a raft while the cherry blossoms flutter around you, clearly. You also refocused your purpose. What did he do in Tokyo in 2019? Well, he took time to think about and write songs for the album he was about to go record. Kind of like refocusing on what’s next, right? And then, in the story when “you both” had time to think amongst the lake and the water and the rain and the moon, and you’d come to the conclusions you needed to, you left. What did he do when he did the things he needed to? Well, he left, too. 

And where did he go? Well, in real life, I suppose he went to do his job. But, in the story, you’re meant to be falling deeper and deeper into sleep, so it’s sort of like traveling backwards, you see? Like counting down to one. So you end up on this island with turquoise ocean and mangrove forests. I’m calling this Jamaica. Why? Well, the description fits, for one, down to the four types of mangroves that exists within its ecosystem. 

And - probably the biggest reason - I can place him there, too. Here’s him in 2017:

I added this picture because the water around him....looks rather turquoise, doesn’t it? Kind of like he’s enjoying his time on a tropical island by the beach?? Oh, and here’s another one!: 

The red bandanna makes a comeback! 

So what are you doing in Jamaica, according to the story? Well, you’re hanging out, basically. Enjoying the beach and each other, of course!  What else? To be exact, “[Your] thoughts dovetail and unify/ In tune two minds together”. I’m so glad that you’re tuned like an old guitar now! Congrats! Really happy for you! 

What was he doing in Jamaica three years ago? Why, he was recording his first album, or so the story goes. I’ll tell you something: finding press for that album was literally the most difficult part of this whole analysis. I got a fair bit of the tattoo roulette with Kendall Jenner, and some things about Carolina, but the interview with Zach Sang took me like an hour and a half to find again to link. The fact that a lot of it has been buried is...not great, for posterity purposes. He’s going to want that one day. 

But I’ve gotten off track again! We gotta go back and finish our story, right? What happens now? Well, this does: 

hahahaha okay, I’m really sorry, but I had to. I’m not, actually, making it up though! According to the story: 

“ As minutes turn to hours We drift off somewhere new. And visualize a stairway To a door we now walk through”

- Dream With Me, 2020

So maybe Louis was just...demonstrating for you. 

Anyways! Where do you walk out to? A golden field full of sunflowers. You walk for a minute, then come across an old house with daisies popping up out of the garden. And that’s where the story ends. I guess you’ve made that farmhouse feel like home. 

Now to the little reflection he does on the outro. The lines I want to bring your attention are: “The tenderness we feel when we are close two minds as one surrounds us and connects us but we’ve only just begun” and “Maybe all the memories that we’ve gathered here tonight are all dreams now remembered or wishes in plain sight.”

Let’s talk about the first sentence first. In the context of finding a home that could be a shared home, and a future, this is very much an “end of the story, beginning of our lives” sort of thing. You’re back from all over, and it’s time to settle down, and see what’s next. 

And now the second sentence. I think this is the one that really drives my point about this story being a collection of memories he has - that’s what he calls it. The story is “gathered memories” that might also be called “remembered dreams” (think of how people say of vacations, “oh it was a dream!”) or you might call it “wishes in plain sight”. This feels in line with the rest of the story. In this stanza, he’s sort of letting you in a bit. If I’ve read this right - and I really think that I have - he’s giving the larger context for the story. It’s a collection of memories he’s had with someone he loves. 

5.) Cool! Can you prove it? 

I mean, I’d argue that if you read this far, I have proved it, but let’s make some more links, shall we? This was called a “muscial epic” that was “driven by him”. I’d argue that if I know my Victorian literature (thank you, Sherlock!), then he definitely does. Then there’s the fact that he quoted it, so. That did happen. And he knows what it means. And even if he didn’t, there were two other people on the story. Someone was more than capable of catching that one, and the fact that they didn’t speaks to intent. They want you to think of that phrase when you read this poem. They want you to think of that walk in the woods while you’re going on this one. 

And, as for my assumption that this is for and about one person, well. Think about it. He said that he writes his songs for a single listener. I’m not saying it’s the same listener each time, let’s get that right, but it is always just for one person. With that, and with the assumption that he’s been involved in the writing of this story, I’d say that the same rule applies. He went with someone to Japan and Jamaica (J^2 haha). And, if I had to guess, it was the same person. 

Why, you ask? Well, for one, if that weren’t the case, then this poem would no longer be for one listener, it would be for multiple. And, for another, imagine how awkward it would be to listen to it with his current partner and have to explain “oh, yeah that was the super romantic vacation I took with someone else” . And, I suppose that because I think that attitude of “refocusing” and “dovetailing” and “tuning” and getting excited about imagining all of the tomorrows with your partner speaks to a long term relationship breathing easily, you know? 

I’m also going to argue that describing the aura around the house as “golden” was intentional, especially when paired with the location - in the middle of a field of sunflowers. Those are both direct references to his songs. And those two songs are particularly linked by the number 28. The third song that features 28 is Fine Line the song, but that’s a different story. Anywho! “Golden”’s bridge just repeats the word ‘golden’ twenty eight times (if you go here , you can count the bridge) and “Sunflower Vol. 6″ ends the song with 28 “boops” (believe me, I wish I was making this up. I’m not.). So then, once again, you’ve linked a story to two already linked songs. 

And, even if you don’t buy the intentional repetition, they’re linked another way, aren’t they? The color scheme and the sun symbol. Sunflowers were named because of their sun-like appearance. They turn to face it. They symbolize loyalty and adoration. And then, of course, the sun is - say it with me - golden. And it - like the person in golden - waits in the sky, beautiful and dangerous and constant. And here that symbol is, in a farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. At home. 

This whole story feels like you’re taking the time to find that heartbeat that you think you might have lost, and sort of coming back to a space where you understand that this is what you want, now and forever. It feels like finding a home that could be yours forever, and it feels like walking through some of the moments that remind him of that. 

It really is rather lovely, if you think about it, especially since he has a tendency to attribute “home” to people rather than place, in his songs. So it’s like. Going all around the world and always being at home. 

#harry styles #calm #dream with me #two loves #honestly man #im happy for you #but ewww #be less sappy please #i mean #SOME OF US DONT HAVE THAT YET HAROLD #hahahaha i think im funny #long post ts #idk how else to tag this but im really proud of it #okay now i'll do the penguin song #promise hahaha

[fandomoverdrive]

Okay I just need to go on a rant about Whirl because I love him he might just be the most tragic character in the entirety of MTMTE and considering the candidates that’s a pretty hard position to cinch. Some of this is gonna have mentions re: self harm, suicidal tendencies/ideation, overall bad coping mechanisms etc so if that’s not your cuppa please scroll on. 

This gets long so here’s the obligatory read more. 

Let’s write “tragic” in flickering neon letters with the fact that Whirl’s first appearance in MTMTE, dropping the titular “how to say goodbye and mean it,” is a personal soliloquy delivered as he’s in the midst of constructing his own funeral pyre. Whirl is lost, directionless, trapped and unwilling to be such in a postwar environment. But how did we get here? 

Whirl is without a doubt a driven character. In the prewar functionist society, he had no qualms switching careers, risks be damned. Whether he’s always had a knack for disobeying authority or was simply driven by passion or both isn’t elaborated on, but he’s got a hell of a hardheaded streak that’s impossible to ignore. When destroying his business wasn’t enough to deter him from further rebellion, the Senate was happy to turn him into an empuratee and destroy not only the opportunity but the capability of continuing to rebel by pursuing his passion. This is what I’d personally consider the big ‘whump’ moment, less so the use and abuse as a pawn that followed but the point of trauma at which we begin to see Whirl’s psyche begin to twist.

From this point forward we see Whirl in and out of prison, let loose when he can be useful to someone else’s ploy and otherwise incarcerated for a buffet of offenses. No longer able to be constructive and having little if any control of his life, Whirl becomes aggressively destructive. In response to having everything he aspired toward ripped away from him, permanently, he builds a mental defense of bitterness and anger and paves over his black hole of self worth with a veneer of outright assholery. It’s here that he bares his metaphorical fangs and pushes - with gusto - anyone who might even suggest they’re trying to appeal to reason or get close to him as an individual. 

It’s hard to imagine, given even subtly different circumstances, that Whirl would not side with the decepticons for the war. While he’s single-handedly responsible for radicalizing Megatron towards violence, the ‘con intent at the start of revolution - that movement in society should be possible and a caste system based on alt mode is unethical - aligns quite nicely with what he’d already aspired to do with his life. His conscription to the side of the autobots is just another instance in which his autonomy is cast aside. 

Whirl is a tool. Whirl had a passion for watchmaking, but now he can’t, so his new passion is violence. Whirl is a gun and someone else has always told him where to point and all he’s ever been given for his cooperation is the blame of pulling the trigger. Whirl is an asshole, Whirl is unpredictable, Whirl isn’t a mech anybody would ever think twice about saving - the answer would always be no. Whirl wants to die. Whirl only wants to die on his own terms and he’ll be damned if he’s going to keel over under the orders of someone he doesn’t respect, for a cause he doesn’t believe in. 

A few years of this sort of treatment would be enough to drive anyone insane, let alone the millennia of warfare he suffered through. Worse yet is the one time he found a group, a team that was known for the unorthodox and taking on the big messy challenges, the Wreckers kicked him out. Whirl was too much for the mechs that were too much and there’s no way in hell that doesn’t still sting. 

That’s how we get here:

Whirl defends himself through isolation from others. He can’t be hurt by others if he never lets them close enough to be hurt by. In a hypersocial society, he has no close long-term friends, he is one of the few with no roommate aboard the Lost Light. He made himself as unpalatable as possible. He’s crass, he’s volatile, he makes it clear with every word and action that Whirl is first, you don’t mean anything, I’d leave you for dead in an instant..... But that’s not true, is it? 

Whirl is shown being completely, dramatically, self-destructively caring throughout the series. Between risking his life for the scraplet colony disguised as a protoform, participating in an untested spark jumpstart to save a life, coming up with a plan to rejuvenate Tailgate’s spark, and performing a spark transplant surgery on Megatron - without whom the world would never have been even a fraction as cruel to Whirl as it had been - Whirl is far from the most selfish character in the series. It’s in his nature, however, to deny such, to the point where he more than likely believes his own narrative that he’s irredeemable, self-absorbed, invincible, degenerate, and neither capable nor deserving of close interpersonal relationships. 

It’s also how we get here:

Whirl is one of the characters that we more frequently see in a state of disrepair. He fights passionately and recklessly, with no regard whatsoever to whether or not he makes it out of a scrum with all his limbs intact. Injuries like these, and those that he experiences elsewhere in the series, would put other mechs out of commission through pain alone, but as long as Whirl is conscious he doesn’t stop until the fight is over. 

As depressing as it is to think that Whirl is simply at this point accustomed to extraordinary pain, it’s even moreso to think about the more likely concept that he wants to be hurt. Whirl doesn’t have control of a lot that happens to him, but do you know what he does have control of? Who he chooses to shit-talk. More often than not we see Whirl being blatantly disrespectful of his superiors, and some of the more dangerous mechs aboard the LL. While obviously his intent when insulting Ultra Magnus isn’t to start a fight, harping on Drift (and subsequently getting cold clocked) or Cyclonus is a little more self-destructive in nature. 

While Whirl has been in therapy, we see during the encounter with Fort Max that he’d shared very little of what he actually considered traumatic with Rung. With no material to work with, Rung wouldn’t have been able to give Whirl instructions or advice as far as a healthy coping mechanism, and so I’m firmly of the belief that Whirl goes out of his way to get himself hurt as a way to have a vague sense of control. 

On his actions and guilt:

Whirl is immensely guilty. When he’s overcharged, he admits that everything feels like his fault - and unfortunately a lot is. Whirl believes he’s the bad guy, and he’s willing to take the fall for actions that others might find immoral. There’s a lot Whirl has done that he’ll likely never forgive himself for, even if he garnered the ability to start forgiving himself for the small things, but the character he’s created for himself has been part of him for so long that it’s near impossible to tell where to draw the line between caricature and his genuine self. 

At this point in time, Whirl is not capable of improving himself without external assistance. 

He has accepted (however wrongfully) that he is not cared about, trusted, wanted, or respected. 

His assumptions become self-fulfilling prophecy as he - consciously or not - works to perpetuate his image. Whirl is a dick, he’s unfazed by anything anyone says about him, if someone is insulting him they’re probably right, why bother arguing unless it’s with the intent to get in a fight? He doesn’t pay attention to others, he doesn’t pay attention to himself, nothing that anybody could say could possibly make a difference. 

Right? Right?

Wrong. Part of what makes Whirl so heart-wrenchingly tragic is that it is so incredibly clear that nobody has ever told him he mattered. Rodimus throws out what could be interpreted as a snide remark, “even the crazy bastard makes a difference,” and that aside sticks with him. Millions of years of warfare, of being a tool to use, an expendable soldier, a rabid dog to throw at their enemies, and not once did someone turn around and say he was anything good. He’s been thanked for saving lives, for contributions, for individual acts, but his reaction to Rodimus really cements in my mind that nobody has ever said that he, that Whirl, was important. 

Whirl is a broken character. He’s subsumed by his own self-hatred that he perpetuates and justifies with a mask of cruel indifference and aggressively abrasive snark. He’s alone, by what he thinks is his own choice but is really a horribly misguided attempt to keep himself safe. He’s got no potential for growth unless someone wants to force their way through his defenses in order to help him find the line between who he is and who he pretends to be in order to keep from being hurt. Whirl is terrified of abandonment, and guarantees that nobody will ever be able to leave him by never letting them come close to begin with. He’s not a good person, he’s violent and callous and has little regard for the consequences of his actions, but he is that way because of the life he was forced to lead. He falls into consistent patterns because he craves control, even if those patterns are self destructive. It’s proof of the little growth he was allowed during the course of MTMTE/LL that after their quest was over, he didn’t attempt suicide again but instead got into the revolving door of incarceration for petty offenses. 

All in all, Whirl is one of the saddest characters in any media I’ve consumed and please someone get this despicable bastard helicopter a new therapist and a stiff drink 

#maccadam #whirl #mtmte whirl #character analysis #transformers

[shaolin-spin-doctor]

I'm not sure if you've written on this yet, but I'm curious on how you think Kung Lao would react to being reunited with his s/o after he breaks free from Quan Chi's mind control.

This got a little long............. did someone say Emotionally Conflicted Hat Man?

As much as Kung Lao aches to see his S/O again after so long... he knows it's better if they don't reunite quite yet. In fact, despite how painful it is to admit, he hopes his escape from hell remains a secret to his partner for the time being. He doesn't want them to get their hopes up, not when he can still feel the corruption slowly eating away at his mind and soul; they had already suffered enough because of him. He doesn't want them to go through that again.

He's also terrified by what his lover might see. He spent 25 years causing pain and committing unfathomable atrocities - evil had remade him, warping his body and tainting his very essence until there was barely anything left. He's been doing his absolute best to pick up the last remaining pieces of his humanity, but he knows it's far from enough, and he's scared of the very real possibility that his S/O could be driven away by what he had ultimately become.

One day, he's going through a light set of moves to fight off boredom when the gruff voice of a guard on the other side of his room's heavy metal door informs him he's got company. He straightens up, expecting General Blade or any other official seeking to question him, but when the door opens and he sees his S/O standing there with a mixture of relief and shock on their face, time seems to stop almost completely. They stare into each others' eyes, and, for a moment, Lao allows himself to revel in the overwhelming sense of joy of being reunited with his beloved after so long, pushing aside his seemingly endless insecurities for the time being. He finds himself whispering their name, unable to stop the tiny smile appearing on his face as he does so.

Recognizing the small gesture as proof of his identity, his S/O lets out a shaky breath and immediately tries to launch themself at his arms for a hug - however, the sudden movement makes the hat-wielding monk flinch and jerk back on instinct. As his lover's expression falls and their eyes fill with grief, Lao curses himself internally for ruining the moment and hurting his partner with his reaction. This doesn't deter them from trying to approach him once again, though, and they move slowly this time, bringing their hand up to his face in a cautious manner as to not startle him again. He doesn't recoil.

"My dear... what did they do to you?" his S/O asks in a soft, heartbroken voice, their fingers finally reaching his cheek. They ghost shyly against his ashen skin, and, unable to respond, Kung Lao looks away, using every last bit of his willpower to stop himself from leaning into his lover's faint touch. He wants nothing but to pick them up and twirl them around in his arms, tell them how much he loves them, caress their face and catch their lips in a deep, passionate kiss that captures everything he can't put into words - but he can't. Not anymore.

Almost as if they were reading his mind, his partner pushes his chin up gently, a silent request for him to look at them. He complies, guilt and shame and regret written all over his face, and they shake their head, tears threatening to escape the corner of their eyes. "Listen to me," they plea, tracing his jawline with their thumb, "It wasn't your fault. You're not a monster, Lao, so please, don't think of yourself like that," they say before carefully pulling him in for a hug. "You're not. I promise. I love you. Always have, always will."

At that very moment, alone with his S/O in a high security Special Forces cell, Kung Lao crumbles. He buries his face in the crook of his partner's neck and hugs them back tightly, apologizing for everything and telling them just how much he had missed them and how unbelievably thankful he is for finally being able to see them again. There are tears streaming down his face and the sheer amount of emotion wrecking his body makes it hard to breathe - he'd never display this amount of sentimentality in public, but he knows he can put his pride aside and let himself be vulnerable with the love of his life. They deserve to know.

The two of them stay in each other's arms for a long while. Lao's partner eventually lets out a wet chuckle as they rub their tear-stained eyes, making a cheeky quip about how they thought they were supposed the sensitive one in the relationship; the revenant laughs back, commenting on how coming up with witty remarks was supposed to be his job. It's a small moment of levity, but Lao is incredibly thankful for it, and it allows him to gather enough courage to pull back and look at his S/O in the eye once again. He thanks them for their reassurance and reiterates how incredibly happy he is to be back by their side, and the smile that appears on his partner's face fills him with motivation. Sure, he might still be unsure about whether or not he can control the evil within him, and he knows his inner demons will never quite stop chasing him... But he will not give up. He will keep fighting until every his very last breath - for his beloved's sake.

He tells his S/O he loves them. They respond by slowly getting closer and trapping his lips in a kiss, telling him they love him back when they break away to catch their breath.

Even after his S/O has to leave and he's alone on his little room once more, he can still feel the warmth of their arms around his frame - it helps him fight off the darkness a bit more effectively than before.

#yes more often than not Lao will make his feelings clear but sometimes his pride will get in the way and he'll hold it in until he breaks #this is especially true after his escape from netherrealm because he's desperate to demonstrate he's in control of himself #someone please tell him it's not healthy #Mortal Kombat #Kung Lao #hatcanons #asks #anonymous #Thank you for the ask!!!!!

[phantaloon-books]

(some) Riordanverse characters (bc I never read TKC) and which Hogwarts House I think they would be in

Warning: this is a long one

Nico: the dude is definitely Gryffindor without a doubt. Like Sorting isn't about some traits and some characteristics, it's about core personality. He may have gone through some of the roughest stuff when he was 10-12, and he was resentful and bitter, but he was brave and bold af throughout everything he did. From learning about his powers, to using them relentlessly despite knowing how exhausted he is afterwards, to his willingness to do whatever is necessary to do what has to be done, because it has to be done. You can't change my mind that he's Gryffindor lol.

Grover: Do I even need to explain why he's Gryffindor? He's a satyr, and even if we're shown strong satyrs, they're not really supposed to be brave fighters. Yet he is one of the strongest, bravest nature spirits we've ever encountered in the Riordanverse, and one of the bravest in general. Like he's so passionate about doing what is good, he's a hero, and the only thing he doesn't match with common Gryffindors is that he's humble and as far from arrogant as could be possible, but it doesn't take his courage away.

Hazel: She's Gryffindor, and core personality-wise, she and Nico are very much alike. They don't ever think about themselves, like Hazel really always does what has to be done, no matter the cost, I mean she literally died preventing Gaea to rise the first time, and she freed Thanatos while believing he would take her back to the Underworld. She's brave af, and she has one of the most strong willpower we've seen in the Riordanverse. She's a passionate hero, and she's the closest thing to a real knight in shining armor.

Lester: I'm gonna place him in Gryffindor because I don't think he fits in in the other houses lmao. That said, as Apollo he's very shitty, but as Lester, he's one of the most courageous people. He's grown so much, he's so willing to actually do stuff now, and sacrifice everything to do what's right, including his life, even if he doesn't know he's gonna survive. Hell, he really went most of TTT with an incredibly painful wound that nearly turned him undead, and he cared more for the future of Camp Jupiter than his own life. Additionally, he's a bit arrogant and cocky, but he truly means well, I love Lester so much.

Clarisse: Look look, all I have to say is that no one could have pulled off less than half the stuff Clarisse has done, she's so Gryffindor it hurts. She's reckless and impulsive, but she's driven by her passion to do good, even if she's the daughter of war, and was bullied by her own father. She's daring, she's bold and she is the hero. She's also arrogant and thinks she can solve everything by herself, something characteristic more of the canon Gryffindors in the books, rather than what the fans have shaped. In fact, she's very much like Gryffindors in the books, who are actually very rude to other houses and think they're the best. Still, at heart, she's in this house.

Alex: I'm in a huge dilemma about where to put them, but I reckon they'd fit pretty fine in Gryffindor. Not only are they daring and courageous, they're proud of who they are, but not in a too full of themselves kind of way, rather in a 'I am who I am, and if you can't accept me, fuck off' kind of way. They can get carried away rather easily though, and very arrogant, thinking they don't need anyone else, when they do in fact need some company. They are one of the kindest and at the same time most ambitious characters we've met, but they are brave beyond understanding in a very personal way, thus, Gryffindor.

Percy: I think it's fair to say he'd be Hufflepuff, because loyalty is literally his fucking fatal flaw, and he is the kindest sweetheart to all those who deserve it, he goes out of his way to help those who need help, whether that be mortals, halfbloods, gods, magical creatures or even his own enemies. He's too good for this world, and even if he's grown a bit bitter, he always looks to fight justly for what is right, and never loses faith in others. That, and the fact that he turned down immortality so that the olympians were more inclusive of minor gods, and their children were treated better. He's just a lovely soul, he's like 80% Hufflepuff so that's enough for me. All that and he's stubborn as hell.

Jason: Hufflepuff. Just, undoubtedly Hufflepuff. Like he seems to be this cold and self centered hero with a superiority complex (bc of all the son of Jupiter stuff) but he's the softest guy there is. Not only is he hardworking, open minded and kind, he appreciates justice but he doesn't seek for revenge or anything, he makes sure people are treated fairly and wants everyone to be accepted. Proof of that is how he continued Percy's job of including more gods, and made sure Nico felt comfortable with who he was. He truly has a heart of gold. (He deserved better btw)

Meg: God I can't decide between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor, but I think I'll go with the former. She's so strong, my baby, she's faced so much wrong, but she's still so kind and understanding of others, especially those who deserve kindness. She puts up such a hard facade, but she's so patient and warm and inclusive. She's brave and strong (as strong as the big three kids, if not stronger), but she's also so loyal to her beliefs despite how she was forced someone else's beliefs for years, so I'll keep her in Hufflepuff. Also, she's stubborn af, and she can be lazy, so that settles it.

Will: I KNOW some people will say Will could be in other houses that are not Hufflepuff, BUT I won't have it any other way. Will is literally the warmest person ever. He is kind and sympathetic and enthusiastic and patient and inclusive. Like Helga Hufflepuff would take one look at him and lose her shit screaming "mine". He's the guy who saw the son of Hades so many people were scared of and immediately grabbed his hand and transfered him some warmth and didn't let him go ahead and get himself killed. He's also the one who everyone loves and likes, so much that Clarisse gets along with him and he can calm her down. He's the ideal Hufflepuff, you can't change my mind.

Magnus: I mean, what else can you expect from the son of the god of summer? He's literally a guy who heals others with warmth. He's also the guy who spent years on the street with the most difficult situations, and accepts every single person the way they are. He's inclusive af, and tolerant of everything. He's the guy who's closest include a deaf elf, a Muslim valkyrie, and a black dwarf, and he's dating a genderfluid person. Yes he's brave, and he's kinda smart, and he's ambitious, BUT none of those qualities overpower his Hufflepuff nature.

Piper: Kinda debated whether Gryffindor or Ravenclaw fits more, but in the end I went with Ravenclaw. Even though she isn't a fighter, she's very very brave, yet her bravery isn't compared to her wits. Like others in the PJOverse, she wins her fights by outsmarting her opponents, but unlike others that's one of her strongest traits. She's witty and creative and a little on the negative side, she really struggled to work in a group rather than by herself. On another note, she's able to keep calm in crazy situations and come up with the craziest most unthinkable solutions (I'm talking borderline ridiculous) that always somehow work. She's not booksmart, but she knows so much about everything, and she's lifesmart you know?

Reyna: Why are some of these so hard? Deeply debating whether she'd be Ravenclaw or Slytherin. In the end I'd go more for Ravenclaw though. Reyna's smart as hell, she's strong and sharp, and she always sees the best way out of a situation. She's witty and observant, being able to keep her cool in battle and lead others in the best direction. She's always looking to grow, and she prefers to do things on her own, but she's a great leader. She has some Slytherin qualities, and she's not learning as learning oriented as others, but she's definitely Ravenclaw.

Sam: Let's face it, Sam has the only active neurons in all of MCGA, she's definitely Ravenclaw. I'm gonna be honest though, I've only read MCGA once, so I can't remember much of their personalities, but Sam is witty and clever, pretty much the only one who can come up with competent plans, while the others rely mostly on luck and whatever plan they can cook up in 5 seconds. She's loyal and true to who she is, and she's extremely courageous and proud of who she is, but her sharpness is what she stands out for me, which is why I put her in Ravenclaw.

Annabeth: I know the obvious option is Ravenclaw, but I genuinely think she's also Slytherin. Yes she is booksmart and wise like Ravenclaw, but her personality matches Slytherins' ambitious, cunning and resourceful nature. She's smart as fuck, but she's calculative, she always finds a way to end up winning, and while she does so by outsmarting her opponents, she wouldn't need to outsmart them if she weren't so competitive. I feel like there's this 40/60 odds on Slytherin rather than Ravenclaw, but it's that small difference that counts. Plus her leadership skills are so powerful that people don't ask, they just know she's the boss.

(Also just picture the sweet and loyal Hufflepuff boy with the strong and cunning Slytherin girl, like it should be as opposite as it is with Poseidon and Athena, but they're so cute)

Leo: Idk what you can expect that's not Slytherin. This boy is the embodiment of ambition and determination. Reminder that not all Slytherins are bad btw (I'm slytherin myself), but like he's life smart and cunning, and he can analyze situations faster than anyone else. He's charismatic and talented, and there's no one to stop him from triumphing. I don't have much to say, I just know he'd be in Slytherin.

Rachel: She's kinda a difficult one, and I struggle between Gryffindor and Slytherin, and tbh I'm still not sure. But I think I'd place her in Slytherin, because even if she's brave af (especially since she was a mortal fighting in a war out of her power), her main trait is her determination. When she's set on something, she gets it done. You can't tell her she can't do something, because she will find a way to do it. She's kind, and she's only a mortal, but she still has incredible power unlike any other. I don't think I can really name it, but I think she'd be put on Slytherin with much difficulty from the Sorting Hat.

Luke: Where else could Luke possibly go? On the meaner side Slytherins have created themselves, Luke would be part of those misled by who preceded them, by those who want to take advantage of their mistreatment (bc let's face it, Slytherins are mistreated by both students and Hogwarts staff), and turn them cold and bitter. Luke is ambitious and manipulative, being manipulated himself, and it comes easily because of his natural charisma and talent. He's very freaking determined and cunning too. He'd fit right into Slytherin, but he'd be viewed as one of the rotten lot.

Thalia: I don't have much to say about this, but Thalia is the girl whose fatal flaw is their desire for power (or smth along those lines), just like most Slytherins. She's ambitious, she's smart, she's truly talented, she stands out between the rest, and she knows it, and she actually kinda likes it.

(Also I put Annabeth, Thalia and Luke in the same house because they're all kinda similar, even if their beliefs and postures are different.

Frank: Ngl I'm having more difficulty with Frank than anyone else. I'm kinda torn between Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. I literally can't choose. He'd fit perfectly in any of them lmao, I just can't decide where he'd go. You decide this one yourself.

Please keep in mind, this is my personal opinion and my take on the characters, and not all of you will agree, and that's fine! You can let me know what you think (kindly please, don't come at me), and if you want to, send me an ask on a character you want me to do the same as these (as long as it's not TKC, I'M SORRY I haven't read those) go ahead, don't be shy!

#pjo #hoo #toa #mcga #riordanverse #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #annabeth chase #grover underwood #nico di angelo #clarisse la rue #luke castellan #will solace #jason grace #piper mclean #leo valdez #frank zhang #hazel levesque #magnus chase #alex fierro #samirah al abbas #hogwarts houses #gryffindor #hufflepuff #ravenclaw #slytherin #rachel elizabeth dare #lester papadopoulos #meg mccaffrey

[potatopossums]

Alright. I've written tons of drafts trying to capture my thoughts on this.

Aromantic people, I'd love to have a discussion about this either in reblogs or DMs or whatever.

I don't know if I'm on the aro spectrum. Ever since I saw the word, I kind of felt like it described something in me. When I saw it, I was coming out of a difficult yet amicable divorce, was thinking I was a lesbian and not bisexual or pansexual... the works. The whole time I felt so cold. My ex husband, when I first told him, he was more blindsided than I expected. I didn't like how much he wanted me to change for him. To be honest, I had been hiding a lot of aspects of myself for years, not only from him, but from just about everyone. To see him be so upset, I felt like I was just... cold. I thought he would be happy for me for finding myself. And it wasn't like I wanted to leave him forever. It wasn't like I hated him; I still saw him as my friend, one of my only supporters since coming out as pan/bi. We had never had sex and we didn't do many romantic things for the whole of our relationship. He wasn't great at planning fun stuff like that, and while I was creative and could absolutely emulate what I thought a "romantic" relationship looked like... I actually valued his companionship more than what he could offer me sexually or romantically. Heck, even before we got married, I described our relationship as a companionship, rather than a sexual or romantic tie. Yes, I have a history of religious shaming, so there is an aspect of that on the sexuality note, but I know I experience sexuality in my own way.

As a people pleaser, I also struggle with emulating what I think is right or expected of me. I am very creative, a great actor, and selfless to a fault. I can convince myself of things quite easily and create a passion based around that as long as it involves creativity and a fool-proof plan. Church and religion was easy for me because of my environment. As soon as I left that environment of constant reinforcement... it fell apart.

So with that said... I think I might be aromantic, or at least on the spectrum. It's been confusing for me because.. I also kind of like romance. Of course I would want that for myself in theory. All the movies portrayed it as so very nice. I've had crushes on people plenty of times, mostly unrequited. I mostly wanted my romantic relationships to save me and take me away from my oppressive home life, which stifled my sexuality down to nothing. I had no freedom of expression in that area, including in my gender. And as soon as I left that environment, again—boom. Within a year I knew I was attracted to women/afabs and that I was non-binary. That's not a coincidence.

I like the idea of being with a partner. I like the idea of partners. So I cling to that in real life, in my relationships. It feels like a compulsive behavior though. As soon as it happens, as soon as someone likes me, something in my brain just clicks off, I disregard my family, friends, or even myself, all to fit perfectly into a role, probably in order to protect myself (either from being abandoned or from being alone—even though I'm not alone). When someone likes me "like that," I have this glimmering hope of being seen in a sexual light. That amount of emotional constipation for years upon years of my life has built up and become something that, when met with even the slightest bit of compassion or friendliness or potential for acceptance, comes out with the pressure of a fire-hose.

It is uncomfortable. For others, and for myself.

I'm not saying it's wrong for me to want to experience that acceptance that I largely did not in my childhood and teen years. Of course everyone deserves to feel loved and accepted for who they are, including their sexuality.

But this perspective also has me wondering how much of romantic attraction is conditioned? I'm not exactly romance-averse, obviously. But I do like to do romance differently in a lot of ways. I would love to see how I would do without my trauma-driven compulsion. I imagine now that if I didn't have that issue, my relationships would just be friendships, or friends with benefits even. No huge romantic anxiety. And in a way, hearing other aromantic people describing how they feel doesn't come off as different from how I feel. The only difference is this compulsory romantic action of mine. Without that, I feel extremely close to aromanticism in practice, not just in theory. (I've legit had people ask me on dates now as an adult and I don't know if I would really say yes except to have a friend, not a sexual or romantic date.) I have trouble separating friendships from romantic feelings, I struggle separating romantic gestures like touch from friendship normalities. I can tell the difference between sexual and platonic feelings. But Christianity really did a fucking number on me, which is where I think half of this grief even comes from to begin with. I know I'm polyamorous and I love to spend time with lots of people at once and not worry about being somehow wrong for loving lots of people. I know aromantic polyam people exist.

(I swear to god the more I explore myself, the more pride flags I end up with and I'm starting to get annoyed 😂)

Does anyone have a similar story to this one? I've seen only one other person who described something similar. I've always felt that the kind of romantic feelings I felt were more the result of obsessive conditioning than they were my own will. And that conditioning started so so young, no doubt. I know I'm not happy with this compulsory behavior.

Does this sound like an aromantic story? What is romantic behavior? How is it even different from friendships? And do you think hyper-romantic behavior is naturally occurring in humans? Do you think it's radicalized by consumerism? Is it entirely fabricated by consumerism?

(My natural state is being tired, depressed, wanting to paint/draw, and wanting hugs—I only want hugs because I have been touch-starved all my life due to the Church's teaching of "touch = sexual and sexual = bad")

#aromantic #questioning #polyamory #lesbian #enby #demisexual

[shreddedparchment]

Pseudo Princess Pt.18

A Step Forward

11/27/2019

Pairing: King!Steve x Reader          Word Count: 6,213

Warnings: angst, fluff, language, jealousy

A/N: This one is a lot of dialogue. I mean, most of my chapters are but this one especially. Hopefully this sheds some light on what happened. These two still have a lot of work to do and hopefully this is the last big hiccup they have. Maybe? Who knows?!! lol Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. I really like writing these two together after so much time of them being at odds. If you happen to reblog, thanks for helping me spread my work! xoxo

TAGS FOR THIS STORY ARE CLOSED!

Steve is teetering upon the edge of slumber. His mind is racing, replaying the moment he'd messed the night up over and over.

You’re smiling at him. Happy. Happier than he's ever made you and then he steps in it. He tells the entire Great Hall about your problems and he doesn’t know why he just can’t stop talking.

He knows that he should. He knows that he needs to stop but staring at you, cherishing the brightness in your eyes—the love he thought he’d driven out of you—it all just comes spilling out.

He wants them to know that he doesn’t deserve you. That you’re amazing and kind and sweet and gentle and regal and forgiving and desirable and you’re his!

Somehow after everything, you’re his. Still.

He tries to play off your anger and it does lighten the mood in the room. Everyone seems to settle, and they don’t take it all as seriously as they probably should.

He can see you softening, that small hint of hope slips out and that little bead in your belly is not only the kingdom’s future but both your futures. Proof of the good that the two of you can create and somehow, you’ve allowed him to be blessed.

The body he'd ravaged cruelly, you turned his weakness into strength. You’re growing his baby. Both your baby. Precious. How can the baby not be when they’ll be half of you?

It spills out of him before he can stop it and he sees the rage in you return.

Then the two of you fight in your room and he says all the wrong things. Things he doesn’t mean. Things that slip from his stupid privileged tongue that he can’t take back.

Sarah Rogers would be disappointed in him. He knows it.

Like an idiot, he leaves you. He stops in his room and squeezes his hands into fists. He punches the wall by the door, and it cracks and crumbles.

“Fuck.” He sighs, defeated.

Why does he always mess up with you? He'll fix it in the morning. Because even if he went to you now, you’d never let him in. You’d want your space.

You said it too. “Alone.” He groans.

How long has he been laying here? Unable to sleep? You’re all he can think of. How he might be able to fix this. Again.

Always there seems to be something to fix because he breaks it. He breaks you.

Maybe you’d really be better off with someone else? Maybe leaving is what’s best for you?

These thoughts swirl around his mind as he keeps his eyes shut and urges himself to sleep.

Even after an entire afternoon spent sleeping in your arms, he’s exhausted. His mind makes no sense, jumping from one thought to the next.

Knowing that you could never really leave him makes him restless. Out of obligation you’ll stay by his side. Before that might have been enough, but now he wants all of you.

If it hurts you or if it makes you unhappy, he'd rather you go and be at peace. But then…he'd he alone again. Not just that, but he wouldn’t have you here. Brightening his days with your sweet smile.

What have I trapped her in? He thinks, agonized over your situation maybe more than you are.

His mind fills itself with the sight of you in your green dress. Gorgeous. His true flower among the lackluster gems in the crowd. They’re cold and hard whereas you are blooming and vibrant. Full of life.

You'd had your hands on him today too. In bed, on the dance floor. Soft warm digits caressing his face and body.

He can almost feel them here at the cliffside of slumber.

You’re tracing the shape of his arms, sliding your hands down onto his stomach, slipping one under the waist of his pants which he'd failed to remove before collapsing.

His mouth parts and he breathes in, tantalized by your touch until he realizes that he doesn’t smell peonies. It smells like mint and lemon. Small hints of gardenia. A soft tang. All wrong. Not you.

He’s been desiring your body. He wants to show you that he can make you feel good, just as Thor had…but this feels too good to be true after your fight.

“Y/N…” He calls out your name anyway, a passionate whisper, a wish for this dream in madness to be real.

He opens his eyes as a pair of lips press against his bare stomach and he yanks away from the blond head in his lap as deft hands make to slide his pants down.

“What are you doing?!” He’s in utter shock.

Not just because it isn’t you but because it’s someone that he would have never…no. This can’t be right.

Sharon. Maggie’s cousin. Her sister almost. One of his closest friends. Friends.

His senses come crashing back and before she can get his pants down further, he grabs her by the shoulders and pushes her back.

“Sharon, what are you doing? Why are you in here? You sh-shouldn’t be here.” Steve demands, shock still his primary leaning, he blinks the sleep from his eyes, confusion muddling his brain.

His rapidly beating heart helps him focus.

Sharon herself looks almost dazed but her eyes are clear as she meets his.

“Steve,” She shakes her head. “I don’t know why I never thought…tonight, watching you have to pretend with Y/N, that you love her and the baby…It should have been us after Maggie died.

“It’s what she would have wanted.” She reasons.

“No.” Steve shakes his head.

“I know that you know that I’ve always cared for you.”

“What?” Steve shakes his head.

“I always hoped that you’d look my way, but I resigned that wish when you and Maggie began to court.

“For you and for her, I would have done anything.” Sharon nods, her hands sliding up along his torso then back down to his hips.

“Sharon…” Steve begins, pushing her back harder until she’s sitting up fully.

“So, you don’t have to pretend anymore. We can be together. Let Y/N go and-"

“Sharon!” Steve says loudly, shaking her hard just once so that she’ll focus on him, her blonde hair swishing at the sides of her head with the rough shake. “First of all, what Y/N and I have is not a farce. It’s real. More real than anything I’ve had in a very long time, and I love her. Really love her. I’d die for her.”

Dramatic? Maybe. True? Definitely.

“But-" Sharon shakes her head, confused.

“Secondly, she is your Queen. You will treat her as such. You do not address her by first name. You do not speak to her as if you have known her all your life. Our friendship does not lessen your duty or obligation to respect and serve the crown be it King or Queen.

“Steve…”

“And thirdly,” Steve hesitates, if only because this woman is more than friend. She’s family.

Only a few years younger than Maggie but just as precious. Just as loved. A different love but love all the same.

“I have never felt for you the way you say you’ve felt about me.” He hopes he isn’t too harsh, but he also can’t leave her in any doubt.

Still, when he looks at her, he sees the small blonde girl racing after him, Margaret, and Bucky. Trying to keep up but unable. Calling out to them to slow down. “Wait foh me, Pwince! Maggie”

“I love my wife, Sharon. And your being here-this isn’t right. It isn’t proper. You’re crossing a line that once crossed will be hard to come back from."

“But if I can’t have you…” She begins voice utterly flummoxed. “…how am I supposed to keep Maggie alive?”

And she breaks. Steve sees it, right before his eyes. This woman, this fighter. Strong. Resilient. Part of the team…she breaks.

Whatever it was that had been keeping her together seems to shatter.

And Sharon weeps. Truly weeps. Steve can see in her the acceptance it took him nearly a year to acquire.

The reality that Maggie is gone. She will never come back and life is just that much emptier without her. It’s a hole that can never be filled. A piece that is taken and maybe over time the edges of the scar begin to heal and fade, but they’ll always be there. That unfillable hole. That pain.

Her sobs are not like yours—there you are again, taking over his brain—they’re quiet but make her whole body shake.

She wraps her arms around herself as if trying to keep herself together.

Steve’s hands flutter by her shoulders, at a loss. How can he comfort her without giving her the wrong idea? He can’t leave her like this.

She suddenly throws herself at him.

Her hands push him back as she straddles his waist and she pulls up her nightdress until it’s up above her thighs.

“Please, S-Steve j-just let me f-feel something…” She begs.

Steve is quick to get her off of him, shoving her to his left so that she rolls onto the bed and nearly off of it. The threat of falling makes her cling to his side.

He makes to shove her off but realizes she’s not clinging in a desire to get him in a compromising position but rather, she’s holding onto her sanity.

Her previous thought seems abandoned but still, Steve waits, checking to see if she might try again but she doesn’t. She only continues to fall apart and Steve’s heart aches for her.

His own eyes water and after a moment he gives in and holds her. He holds that little girl chasing after her older cousin, idolizing her strength. He gives her what he denied himself for a long time, reassurance.

“It’s going to be okay, Sharon. You’re going to be alright.” He assures her.

“I m-miss her!” She sobs, and Steve nods, rubbing her back.

“I know.” He gives her a few minutes to find some composure then makes to push her away.

“No!” Sharon cries harder, “Please, just a few minutes? I-I have no one now.”

Steve shakes his head, wanting to send her away but also unable to. How can she think she has no one? She’s family. She’ll always have the team.

“Sharon you can’t sneak in here like this again.” Steve chastises her, knowing her like a sister but unable to recognize the woman beside him.

He considers her as she sobs, wondering how long it has been since she talked about Maggie and what happened. Surely it wasn’t since the burial?

That amount of denial…

His lack of sleep begins to catch up to him as he watches her. He blinks, arms going slack around her as his eyes take longer and longer to open.

He doesn’t mean for it to happen. He was only going to give her a minute. Just enough to get herself together, then he’d show her out. But his exhaustion is too much.

Darkness takes him, then he hears it, the click of his door and a disbelieving gasp of betrayal.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Y/N.” His Majesty says.

You feel the edge of his fingertips against the small of your back and you jerk away from his touch.

He takes his hand back. A sorrowful sigh warms your side.

He’s almost curled around your back like an oversized cat, keeping his hands to himself but he’s eager to look at your face.

What he’s trying to see you’re not sure. Your angry expression? The pain in your eyes? The way you do that thing with your mouth when you’re furious?

“My sweet, I’m sorry. Please believe me.” He begs.

Once again, he tries to touch you, this time he places his whole hand on your back.

“Don’t touch me.” You say, nearly breathless. “I’m not ready for touch.”

You make it clear and pull away from him again.

He quickly takes his hand back and raises it a little so that you can see it.

“Okay, darling. Okay. I won’t touch you.” He looks like a big puppy. Large storm blue eyes giving off as much innocence as they can while you seethe.

You glare at him. “Do you have any idea what that felt like?”

He looks down at your hands, balled into fists around the sheets of your bed beside your thighs.

“I can-”

“You can’t.” You shake your head. “You can never know what it feels like to be lesser than. Inadequate. And then find the woman who makes you feel like that in your husband’s bed.”

“My husband?” Steve asks, smirking up at you.

“This is not the time to be making jokes!” You raise your voice, caring not that Peter can hear you.

The other guard switched off with him after all the screaming in the hallway.

Steve cowers. “Right, yes. You’re right. I’m an idiot. I’m sorry. A complete moron.”

You give him your back again, arms crossed over your chest as you let your anger settle.

“Am I a game to you?” You demand, agony slipping through to coat your words with ire.

“What? No. Of course not, my flower!” Steve insists.

He moves around you, sliding off the bed to squat in front of you, his hands find your wrists and you glower.

Quickly he takes his hands back and places them just beside your knees instead.

“I’ve said that I’m sorry so many times, I think the words are beginning to lose their weight.” Steve nods slowly, reading your irritation accurately.

“You’re not wrong.” You bite. “So, why don’t you stop doing things to be sorry for?”

“I’m trying.” He leans forward, nearly putting his forehead against your lap, but he doesn’t lay it down. You can feel the disappointment radiating off him. “I’m trying so hard to do right by you, but I do everything wrong.”

“Not everything.” You counter. “Your grand gestures, they’re lovely but I can do without those.”

“You didn’t like the pavilion?” He worries.

“I loved it, your Majesty.” He sighs but doesn’t complain this time. “But it was unnecessary.”

“It was very necessary. I cannot pay such homage to my deceased wife when my living one is just as precious.” He fights. “If I could plant peonies in every field surrounding the castle, I would. In fact, I think I will.”

“Please don’t.” You shake your head. “As beautiful as that would be, the expense would be extravagant and there are much better uses we could put that money towards. The school in the village is in desperate need of repair and new books. Perhaps we can add a whole new wing? For a proper library with all the most recent-”

Steve laughs.

“Why are you laughing?” You demand, annoyed with him easily because you’re already angry.

“Because you’re not like any woman I’ve ever known.” He reaches up to caress your cheek, but you pull away. He drops his hand, unoffended. “Most women would be swooning at the idea of such an expensive gift.”

“Is that what Sharon would like?” You spew, vile and bitter and rightfully jealous.

You watch as the light that had just entered his eyes is extinguished.

“Y/N…Sharon is not…” He stops, realizing what he’s about to say then thinks better. “I didn’t know that Sharon felt that way about me. I’ve known her all my life. She’s like family. I’ve always seen her as a younger sister. She used to follow Bucky, Maggie, and I around when we were children. For me it had always been Maggie. I never thought that she would think of me in that way. I certainly never thought about her that way. And I don’t now,”

You’re hanging on his every word for more than just his assurance of his feelings.

This is the first time he’s ever volunteered any information about his life before you showed up. This is the first glimpse into what made the man you see before you into the man that he has become.

“You do believe me, don’t you?” He pleads.

“I don’t know.” You admit, frowning. “Seeing you and her like that…Why was she in your bed?”

Steve growls, and you look down, angry but feeling like a bother with your questions.

He seems to notice the way you shrink because despite your protests, he reaches behind you to slide his hands down along your back to reassure you.

“No, darling, no. I’m not…I’m frustrated with myself. With this whole situation.” He explains. “Never with you. Ask me whatever you’d like.”

“Answer my question then.” You order, recovering quickly. “And hands.”

He quickly pulls his hands back to rest beside your knees and licks his lips as he considers how to answer.

“She did think that I didn’t love you. She came to try to-” He stops, tilting his head to the right and back quickly as he chews his lip. “When I realized why she was there, I told her that she was wrong. Then she tried to do it anyway, but I pushed her off and where you saw her is where she fell. And I was going to push her off completely. Send her back to her room but then she was in hysterics over Maggie and I-”

“Why can’t I escape your wife?” You ask him, saddened by Maggie’s perpetual presence in your marriage. And you sound it. You’re exhausted.

“You’re my wife, Y/N.” Steve affirms.

You ignore him. “I’m not saying that I don’t ever want to talk about her. She was a large part of your life up until the point that she wasn’t, and I am desperate to know about your lives together, but why does she keep getting in my way?”

“I don’t know.” Steve sighs. “I think maybe it’s me and not Maggie.”

He blinks, his eyes lingering more towards closed.

“Were you sleeping? When Sharon went in?” You wonder, remembering the shift of your bed as you tossed and turned.

“No.” He says. “I was almost asleep all night long. Every moment that I came close to slumber my thoughts of our argument would pull me back.”

His cheeks suddenly flush and this time he reaches to grab hold of the soft white sleeve of your nightdress and gives it a few flirty tugs. It’s a shy gesture and it warms you. This new side of him—him reaching out for you—is pleasant and surprising. You’ve seen only the cold man and more recently the eager man. Eager to make amends and reinitiate the intimacy of husband and wife.

This shy probing person, blushing up at you from where he’s planted himself innocently between your legs, he’s unexpected.

“At first I thought it was you. When she touched me…it was in a way that I’ve wished for you to touch me.” He confesses, voice low, deep, coming out of his chest to melt your resolve.

Your neck burns and you swallow hard, then you remember why he’s down there and why you’re on the bed, fuming.

“I don’t want to hear about how Sharon touched you, your Majesty.” You chastise.

“No. I wasn’t going…all I meant to say is that I only want you to do anything like that to me. I don’t need any other woman’s touch. Only yours.” He promises. “I wish…well I wish she hadn’t snuck into my bed and done what she did, but I wish that it had been you. I want you.”

“Then why was she in your bed?” You demand, unmoved by his declarations.

Steve shuts his eyes, thinking back to the last thing he remembers, and he could feel Sharon shaking in his arms as she sobbed what must have been two years’ worth of sorry.

She’d rejected her grief like he had only hers had manifested in a different way. Where he’d hurt you in his attempts to deal with that grief, Sharon had thrown herself at him. Then finally succumbed to the agony and fallen apart in his arms.

“I was going to get her off…I just…she started to cry and then I don’t remember anything. I remember thinking that she shouldn’t have tried to ignore her sorrow and then…then you were walking in. We must have cried ourselves to sleep.” He realizes, sounding regretful.

“You were crying?” You nearly gasp, remembering the way he’d looked that first night after your wedding, sobbing at your bedside for what he’d done and the utter shame and regret he’d been feeling. That broken man had won you over with his sincerity but the sight of him had been heartbreaking, eyes all red and swollen, brow knit in anguish.

As handsome as he always is, it wasn’t a good look on him. Not one you wish to see repeated. It seems even now all you want is for him to be happy.

Without thinking you reach up to trace what you can now see are the dried trails of his salty tears. Your fingers are gentle and careful, all thoughts of anger gone for a moment.

He smiles, flipping your heart over and over as you realize that he’s staring at you.

“What?” You wonder, moving to take your hand back but he catches it and he runs his thumb along your palm.

“How can you be worried about me now after everything that happened today? I thought you were angry at me?” He points out.

“I am angry with you.” You gripe, trying to pull your hand from his.

“Then why are you so kind? So caring?” He’s trying to read you and his scrutinizing blues have your stomach tumbling.

“I don’t understand your question.” You shake your head.

“I thought maybe you would choose not to speak to me again or maybe not care, after all of this.” He explains.

“Oh. Is that how it’s done here? Do you stop loving someone just because you’re angry at them?” You throw out. Maybe being a bit more bitter than you mean to be. “Well, I’m sorry I’m not some cool and collected noblewoman with skill I clearly have yet to learn. I don’t stop caring just because I’m angry.”

“No, Y/N…” Steve sighs and you yank your hand out of his grip. “I didn’t mean—”

You tear your eyes away from him, focusing off to the side at anything other than him.

Steve watches you, observing the way your shoulders droop, the way your lips quiver as if you’re ready to cry or maybe scream?

When he can’t stand your silence anymore, he sits down beside you, leaving no distance between you. He’s pressed against your side casually. The physical touch is not even a thought to him as he settles.

“You’re better than all of us, Y/N. You know that, right?” He asks, keeping his eyes on the ground as you finally turn to look at him. “Before I fell asleep, before Sharon…I started to think that maybe I’ve trapped you in this place without ever truly considering how this life might change you? Is this really the place where you belong?”

Your heart is suddenly racing. Is he going to send you away?

Your hand travels down to your stomach and you cup the small swell.

Wait, is he trying to get rid of you?

“Don’t you want me here?” You ask, not realizing how heartbroken you sound.

“What?” Steve looks at you, confusion etched across his handsome features. “Of course, I want you here.”

And then he’s laughing.

Laughing?!

“Why are you laughing again?” You demand, voice cracking a bit.

Steve turns to face you, his hands finding the sides of your face as he continues to laugh.

“This isn’t funny.” You protest, not realizing how close to tears you are.

“No.” He manages to say but chuckles a little bit more. “No, it isn’t. I’m sorry. Ignore me. I just can’t fathom how you thought I was telling you that I didn’t want you here.”

“Well, you said that-”

“I said that maybe, I trapped you in a situation where the life you lead can only be full of pain. I don’t like hurting you, flower. I hate it.” Suddenly, he’s not laughing anymore, but his thumbs are slowly tracing the shape of your cheekbones. “I wish I could take back every instance where I have hurt you.”

“Me too.” You admit.

“I want you here. I need you here. I love you.” He sighs.

Leaning in towards you, he tilts his head to the side slightly, but you quickly pull back before he can kiss you.

His hands slide off your cheeks as you lean away from the reach of his puckered lips.

“I’ve not forgiven you yet.” You remind him. “I don’t want to kiss you.”

A lie. But he doesn’t know that.

“I still don’t understand how Sharon being in your bed is alright.” You tell him.

“It isn’t.” He acknowledges and places his hands in his lap. “I should have sent her away as soon as I realized she wasn’t you.”

“Why didn’t you?” You demand, refocused.

“Because she was heartbroken. And she’s like a sister to me. I feel responsible for her in some ways because she was Maggie’s younger cousin. It never occurred to me that she would do anything like what she did today.”

You ruminate on his words but your gut instinct from that first day meeting her rears its head.

“I knew that this was going to happen. From the moment that I met her, and she refused to call me by my title…”

“Ah, that she won’t be doing again.” Steve assures you. “I’ve made sure she knows that it’s unacceptable the way she’s been speaking to you.”

“But you won’t send her away?” You ask, knowing the answer already.

Steve thinks hard for a bit, gauging your expression before he shakes his head.

“I can’t.”

Your heart drops.

“But it isn’t what you think, my sweetness.” He scoots closer again and you reach up to push his arms away as he tries to bring them around you.

“Stop trying to touch me.” You tell him angrily. “Why can’t you send her away?”

Steve refuses to answer. He stares at you, face growing more and more torn as he weighs your need for answers. You make to get up and leave him there in your room, alone.

~~~~~~~~~~

Steve reaches out for you and takes hold of your wrist. “Wait.”

You stop, turning to look at him, giving him a chance to remedy this. And in this moment, Steve knows that there is no other option. He must let you in completely or risk losing you permanently.

And this will be the last time he lets this happen. If tonight is any proof, you two cannot part angrily again. He won’t let it happen. He’ll stick to your side until the two of you have worked out whatever it is that’s come between you until he knows that you’re okay.

You are his choice and he will stand by it until he dies.

The tightness in his chest is painful. The thought of you away from him, hating him, and with his baby too? No. He needs to make this right.

“I’ll tell you. Please sit down?” He reaches for you and you don’t fight him this time.

You let him touch your hip and he turns you so that when you sit on the edge of the bed, you’re facing him.

He takes the opportunity to feel your tummy and you don’t pull away, which he’s grateful for.

You’re too good for him.

You’re justified in your anger and contempt and yet here you are, giving him this little bit of comfort even though you could continue to push his hands away.

“What I’m about to tell you is not something that should be repeated outside the confines of this room. If we’re alone, then it’s alright but if we aren’t, I need you to keep this secret. I know I can trust you, but I need you to know that this puts you in danger.” He sighs heavily. “More than you already are. I wanted to keep this from you for as long as I possibly could. This is not part of your life here, but it is a part of mine and Sharon’s and Nat’s and Bucky’s…we’re all part of it and since we’re always around you—”

You gasp and Steve stops to look up at you. Realization has made your eyes wide as saucers.

“The man who attacked me?” You guess.

Steve wants to smile. You’re so smart. Instinctive. Perfection.

“Yes.” Steve nods. “I’m certain it’s because you’re my Queen. But it’s more than that. Natasha, Samuel, Bucky, Peter, your father-”

“My father?!” You ask him in shock, Steve nods.

“Yes, your father. Your mother. Thor…Sharon…and a few others you haven’t met—all of us work hard to fight the evils of the world. This unfortunately exposes our loved ones to dangers.” Steve nods, watching the shock fade from your face. “Dangers that I didn’t want you exposed to. Dangers that have already found you.”

Deep fear begins to take root in his chest, choking him and he wants to hold you if only to feel you close and safe. But you don’t want to be hugged right now.

“So…” He can see your mind racing, thinking up a hundred different things until you seem to settle on one. “…Maggie? She was also part of this group?”

Steve nods. “Yes. She was my partner, in every sense of the word. She and Sharon made quite the team too. And when I lost her…to infection…I’d always prepared myself to lose her in battle. I know she’d thought about losing me that way too. We’d talked about it before. I never expected it to be so…normal.”

He wonders if you can suddenly see why he’s struggled so much with Maggie’s death. He’d come face to face with situations that meant life and death all the time, only to lose her when they were supposed to be safe, it took him so long to come to terms with it. For a long time, he couldn’t accept it.

And Maggie and Sharon were so close.

“So, she’s here because of the attack? Sharon?” You guess, and he wants to kiss that smart little head of yours.

“I sent for her as soon as Thor told me what he saw. It’s why he wasn’t here tonight. He’s been making regular scouting missions from here to Asgard since you got back. Just to make sure you’re safe.” Although Steve is grateful for Thor’s assistance, he’s also a little miffed. You’re his wife. Why does Thor feel so entitled to you?

Smug jerk.

“We were all going to meet tomorrow. She’ll hate herself in the morning.” Steve knows that she’ll find a way to apologize to you and him.

“Am I supposed to feel bad for her?” You ask him, and as Steve meets your eyes, he’s surprised though impressed by the sharp edge in your tone. The rage still bubbling there beneath the surface. “Because I don’t.”

“I know.” Steve nods.

“I don’t want to see her. Or speak to her. How long will she be here?” You wonder.

This disappoints Steve a little. He’d really wanted you and Sharon to get along since she’s precious too, but he can see how that is impossible now.

Why had she gone and tried something so foolish? Why had he let her stay? He shouldn’t have been swayed but she’s like a sister.

“I’ll send her home after the meeting.” Steve offers. “So long as nothing comes up. She’s very skilled at fighting those evils I spoke about.”

Steve can already see the hesitation in your pretty face. The regret. The guilt at asking him to send her home right away.

“If she’s really that valuable…if having her here makes things easier. If you want her here-”

“I will send her home as soon as the meeting’s over, my flower.” He insists, resolute in his choice. “I want you to be happy here. I know that things have been difficult for both of us. I’ve made things difficult for both of us, but I told you that I’m going to show you how much I love you and need you here and I meant it.

“There’s only you, Y/N. You are my forever and I hope to make it a pleasant forever. For me but especially for you. I have so much to make up for, if you will let me?”

You’re watching him, eyes big, trying not to blink because there’s a small puddle under each eye growing bigger by the second.

God, he hates it when you cry. If he could take all of your tears and turn them into smiles he would. No…your laugh would be better. So beautiful.

“Say something, little flower.” He pleads, moving the hand resting on your little swell to your hips. He scoots closer when you don’t pull away.

Will you let him hold you? He loved sleeping with you today. Cuddling together. Feeling your soft body between his arms had felt better than he would have thought possible.

Your tears finally spill over and he brings his hands up to wipe them away as they fall.

“Do you feel this way only because of the baby?” Your lip trembles and he feels his heart shatter. “I mean, I know that it’s what we’ve been waiting for, what you’ve needed, and I was just wondering-”

You look down at your hands, run them over your teeny bump, caressing the child sweetly. You’re already in love with that little one. You’re exuding devotion for it.

“-If maybe the reason you’re so eager to-to keep me here is because of the baby? I-”

Steve brings his hand down to take hold of your chin, gently pulling it upwards until he can meet your watery eyes.

“I have loved you from the moment I first laid eyes on you.” He whispers, “And I only fought it for so long out of a misplaced sense of responsibility for Margaret. You are my responsibility now. You are my love. This child is a blessing but even without it, even if the kingdom were taken from me, you are my wife.

“I will show you. What happened tonight…that will never happen again. I’m an idiot. A large one.” Steve can’t help but smile at you as you sniffle, reaching up to wipe your nose as you consider his words.

“I’ll leave again.” You tell him, not a threat but it’s a promise. He can see the determination in your eyes. “I can’t stay with that happening in the other room. Our room…”

Your drift off sadly and Steve realizes why you’d been at his door.

You had been coming to be with him. In his bed. And he’d found Sharon there instead.

“Shit.” Steve’s throat is tight. How is it possible that he missed this small detail? “It is our room. Damn it, Y/N. I will…I will have the bed remade. I will-What color do you want? We can redecorate the entire thing. Make it new. It will be our room. Tell me what you want, I’ll do it.”

Steve watches as you stare at him, then finally, your lips take a small curl. It’s not a full smile, but it’s a small one. Just enough to give him hope that he hasn’t fucked this marriage up permanently.

“I’m really tired.” You tell him, and Steve springs up to clear your side of the bed. He pulls the blankets back and holds them up as you slide in. “Thank you.”

“Of course, my flower.” He smiles at you, tucking you in and then letting his hands linger on your stomach.

“You’re staying, right?” You ask him, and when he meets your eyes, he finds you watching him with uncertainty.

“Of course, I am.” He says with determination. “Of course.”

He moves around the bed, blowing out a few of the candles that had been left on as he goes plunging the room into semi-darkness with only the light of the fireplace casting dancing shadows across the room.

He settles in, turning to face you and makes to hold you.

“No.” You protest. Steve freezes. “I’m not ready for that. I’m still angry with you. For more than Sharon.”

Damn. You’re right of course. Steve had gone and said too much at the feast.

“Right.” He nods, unable to help the crestfallen look on his face. “Right. I’m sorry.”

“You can hold my hand.” You offer, and when he looks at you, you’re holding your hand out towards him, laying on your side to face him.

Steve smiles. Hope. This is all he needs for now. As long as you haven’t given up on him, he’s okay.

He takes your hand, pulls it to his lips and kisses your fingers. He lays with you in silence. Watching as your eyes slowly shut, and when you’re fast asleep, he closes his too.

#king!steve x reader #king!steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #marvel fanfiction #medieval au #avengers x reader #mcu fanfiction #fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #arranged marriage au #royalty au #steve x you #king!steve x you #pseudo princess pt18 #pseudo princess

[onisiondrama]

(Note: I’m not repeating stories he’s told before and just putting them in parenthesis. I have a lot more videos to go until I’m caught up so that would save me a lot of time. If he gives details I never heard from him before, I will type those.)

“Should I Get A Divorce?” Speaks,  Oct 6, 2020

- This video is weird. He’s trying to make himself seem smart and insightful about marriage because his marriage is “successful”, while most people complain about their marriage. - There’s one part where he says people don’t understand you don’t have to be lied to or cheated on in a relationship. Which is pretty ironic coming from him. He shows a clip of an upset wife asking her husband what he’s doing with a woman in a bedroom. The husband and the woman are getting dressed. The husband keeps asking “Who?” “What?”, pretending the woman isn’t there. Later he shows more of the clip where the wife is still questing him. He keeps pretending he doesn’t know what she’s talking about. She looks in the bedroom again and the woman is gone. The wife looks confused. Love that gaslighting. Just like when Jamsey boi cheats. “I didn’t cheat. It was the other person who cheated on you, my spouse” “You said I can’t have oral or vaginal sex with your friend. You didn’t say anything about anal.” - In another part he says there are people who constantly complain about their s/o and they hide away in a man cave.. he says this while in his garage man cave. 😑 Which we know he spends most of his time in. Like, way longer than normal working hours.  - He says he used to look angry in his old Speaks videos because of his marriage at the time. That’s total crap. He only shows clips from videos where he used his old militant persona for videos like his anti-meat videos. He made plenty of mushy Speaks videos talking about how happy he was with Skye back then too. 🙄 - I think he made this video during his short guru / advise phase.

“gotta say goodbye for a little bit” Speaks, October 8, 2020

- Tells his viewers they can listen to this video without watching it if they like to listen to people talk, like Kai used to do. [This is definitely meant to be another guru / advise type video. I can tell by his tone.] - Says he’s married to Kai for almost 8 years. (How Kai found James story) Says he married a fan and had children with them. He says they now have an awesome dynamic, but he knocks on wood because people who are together 18 years still get divorces. Says you never know, things can suddenly fall apart. - Says it’s cool because at the time he didn’t listen to social standards. Kai was 17 at the time, but lied about his age. Most people would have said don’t go for the relationship because Kai lied and the age gap, even though it was legal. He listened to the law and his heart and now he’s in the happiest marriage of his life. - “F society.” If he listened to society, he wouldn’t know where he’d be or what relationship he’d be in. Says you have to follow the legal system or your life is ruined. - Says he was an air force cop at one point because he believed in justice. He doesn’t think he wanted to shoot people, but he excelled in the cop program. He says he met Magic Johnson in the cafeteria at Lackland Air Force Base. He barely knew who Magic Johnson was, but he thought it was cool a famous basketball player was there. James asked him if he could take a picture and he said yes. He says he took a picture of him like a reporter and not a selfie. He still regrets that. - Says he wants to talk about the future of this channel. Some people appreciate he’s been uploading every day, but he wants to focus on sites that aren’t shadow banning people or algorithmically demoting people. He feels like Youtube is king in letting negative opinions prevail, even if it’s invalid. If the engagement shows people are mad at you, Youtube used to go the harsh truth route. He says that was nice. He says he once made a fake meltdown video in response to a video Leafy made about him. He says it’s fun for him to make fake meltdowns. - He says he and Kai took a quiz today and found out Kai’s IQ is 136 and his is 129, so Kai is smarter than him. - After the meltdown videos, Youtube algorithm didn’t favor him as much. He says maybe it was because he said they were fake. - He says he has been thinking about websites and how they treat users. Says Twitter is one the best because they don’t care about what your opinion is. They just care about their rules. Says if people don’t like you on other sites, they will shadow-ban you and you’re done for. He says his reaction video to Leafy’s video got 1/6th the views Leafy did, so there was a bleed over of traffic. Now when someone says something negative about you, YouTube will only promote videos that agree with that narrative. Says if you only want to hear negative stuff about Joe Biden, you’ll only see negative stuff. He says it’s financially productive, but it’s not ethically productive.

[I just want to pause here and vent a second. Yes, James fell out of the YouTube algorithm, but he’s had plenty of chances to sweep back into it. Like when he was getting tons of views on those fake meltdown videos in January. The reason those viewers didn’t stay is because there is nothing good for them to watch. His Speaks videos are boring, long, rambling messes. He repeats himself, contradicts himself, talks about the same topics over and over. These videos are mind-numbingly boring. His comedy videos are extremely outdated. The characters, topics, and humor he uses are not going to get him anywhere anymore. Like is the Death Note fandom really that strong in 2020? That anime came out 14 years ago for Christ sake. His music is not particularly good or interesting. On top of all this, his reputation is complete garbage.

People just don’t want to watch Onision. If the algorithm tried promoting his Speaks videos, I guarantee most people are actively choosing not to click on his videos. The non-subscribers that do click probably regret it. He’s made ZERO effort into making interesting or engaging content. He’s ONLY been making Speaks content that either fuels his ego or defends himself using the same old arguments he’s used 100+ times before. He’s got to be in some kind of deep denial if he thinks his Youtube views are down because of the algorithm. 

There used to be a saying that whenever Onision’s fans grow out of him, there will always be a crop of young teens that start watching him. That’s not happening anymore. It’s not cool for the alt / loner kids to watch edgy Youtube videos anymore.]

- Says people only want to hear things they agree with, people want to take what he says out of context, blah, blah. I’m only 1/4th of the way through this damn video. - He asks why he’s busting his butt when there’s no chance for him to prevail on Youtube or anywhere. He says he’s on TikTok, OnlyFans, Twitch. [This video was from before his partnership was taken away on Twitch.] He says those are slightly less problematic because they are driven by human beings and not drama. - He says when you see him posting less to Youtube in the future, you’ll understand why. He says he wants to wait you guys out, 2 years, 20 years. (He tried to call out Shane story.) He says he had to wait a year or two until people admitted he was right about Shane. He says he has conflicting feeling about Shane because they had a personal friendship. Says Shane told him they were friends. - He says you guys seem to drive your narrative and agendas by emotion rather than science and facts. He can’t reason with them unless he picked a greater evil and wages war on that. You would have to join forces with him because the enemy of my enemy is my friend. He says he wouldn’t do that because he’s not interested in being a professional wrestler and making fake drama. - In time you will feel passionately about other things. You don’t actually care about anyone involved because none of you are consuming yourself with anything that is not pop culture. You’re only interested in things other people are pretending to care about. None of you would care if someone found three bodies in a basement. If they were not celebrities you wouldn’t care. You only want justice for things that will get you attention. - If someone builds their whole platform about anti-person they might get bored and become anti-you. That’s why you don’t want to be friends with dramatic people. - He says he was dramatic about things, but that’s because he did care about those things. He wasn’t talking about 3 bodies in the basement either. - Says a long time ago when a celebrity died, he pointed out 30 people were murdered and washed ashore in another country. No one was talking about it because they probably didn’t hear about it. Nobody actually cares about human lives. If you did, every second that a human dies you’d be tweeting about it. - (Sarah blackmail story.) He says in a number of words Sarah said she wouldn’t ruin his life if she slept with him, then went back on it. [Wow. He really morphed his original story. It used to be: One time she jokingly said she could ruin our lives. Later we wanted her to sign an NDA and she said only if she gets something out of it, meaning sex. James said it was “good vibes” that day and he perceived that as her being kinky. She also said it was just a joke in the “proof” clip he always uses. They signed the NDA, then James pressured / tricked Kai into having sex with himself and Sarah. Then Sarah later came back and he decided they should have anal while Kai was out of town because Kai didn’t say no genital to butt. He only said no genital to genital and no genital to mouth before he left.] He says he decided to no longer sleep with Sarah because it was toxic and he decided he would rather be ruined than be with Sarah. [I have a theory he stopped sleeping with Sarah because he was afraid of Kai finding out. If he was truly afraid of Sarah ruining his life, why did he make those videos about weed smokers and BPD that would piss her off? She didn’t speak about their relationship publicly until he started bashing her through those videos.] Says Sarah went ahead and ruined his life and you fell for it. - He keeps mentioning Joe Rogan. - He says others have said he built an empire, uploaded thousands of videos. He gave so much of his life entertaining people and making them laugh. It was so important to him. He changed a lot of lives for the better. Says if you look on Twitter before the drama, you’ll see a lot of people thanking him. Says he was a positive influence to millions of people. That’s a fact. It all came crumbling down because people lied. They’re all criminals he kicked out of his life. He tries to play hero and he was only right with Kai. Kai wasn’t playing victim, he was on his way to college to be a surgeon. Once he was in the process of having kids, he lost the taste to be in a surgery room. Instead he got a bachelor’s in psychology. Kai’s diagnosis of James is aspects of narcissism, but says he doesn’t meet the qualifications to be a full blown narcissist. - He is investing a lot of time in people who don’t listen and don’t appreciate his content. Social media is a drug that tries to take up as much of your time as possible to make advertisers money. He doesn't create content that lies to you or brainwashing you into thinking your opinion is valid. He doesn’t pander to you to make money. Says when he says he’s one of the most honest people on Youtube, the bar is low. OnisionSpeaks is snake poison because snakes don’t survive on this channel. They aren’t going to have a voice that isn’t questioned. Most snakes on Youtube don’t even know how to activate charities on their channels. - Says he had a conversation with Kai about someone who said they vote for the economy over people. Humans are divided between helping their neighbor and helping themselves. - Says he was never taken to court because he never did anything. He’s still posting to places that he thinks is beneficial to himself and his family. Why would he stop because people have a bad idea of him? You shouldn’t alter your life just because people have an opinion of you. If you quit it makes you look guilty. If you quit you’re either guilty or incapable of dealing with it. He says he’s used to dealing with abuse since he began social media. - He wants to create content and help people and make them laugh. He wants to be socially capable and experienced. His ambitions are aligned with what he’s doing. - He says he can’t forgive his father if what people say about him is true. Everyone else he can forgive. If you are at odds with him, he doesn’t have any hate for you. He understands people can hear the wrong narrative and make mistakes. Says we are both imperfect people and have gone through different things. Says if we went through the same experiences, we’d think the same. Says we aren’t so different.  - Says he’s going away and he hopes you watch all his videos so you’ll know a little bit about who he is instead of listening to what Youtube manipulates you into watching. Says his advise is to quit social media. He wouldn’t quit because he’s passionate about it.

[foundouthatdabiistouyatodoroki]

Explaining Dabi’s Bio

To be honest  I wasn’t actually expecting anything relating to Dabi to come I thought was Horikoshi is going to skip Dabi like he does with the other times when ever Dabi appeared in the manga. But when volume 25 came around we got his bio, I was completely ecstatic to receive Dabi’s profile though there was little info on his bio It didn’t disappoint. Finding out even a little bit about Dabi helps to learn about his character.

We didn’t get to learn Dabi’s age and real name we didn’t learn anything about Dabi other than his birthday and height. My hunch on this is this can all harken back to him being Touya Todoroki. His age and real name would reveal Dabi being Touya, the older brother of Shoto and the oldest Todoroki sibling.

I am going to go over Dabi’s profile and what it has to do with him in this post.

Dabi’s birthday is January 18, Dabi is born seven days away from Shoto. This puts a damper to the entire twin theory but wait! Look!

The 18th in Japanese is written 十八日 If broken apart in japanese it goes like this “To,(十)” being 10 and “ya,(八)”  being 8. If you read the kanji with the same kun spelling its written like this

When read like this it's pronounced “Touya.” This is a possible hint to his true identity being Touya.

Another thing to mention: Dabi born in the month of January which makes him a Capricorn. Despite knowing very little about Dabi (since his motives are left in the air), he has several traits relating to Capricorns. If you take an in-depth analysis of the Capricorn in Dabi’s character, there's a lot that matches Dabi’s personality.

Let’s go over with the star sign Capricorn and what it has to do with Dabi:

Capricorns are winter signs. They are... cold, serious, practical, grounded with unbreakable convictions. Capricorns are the most level headed of the star signs. They keep their cool in a crisis they rarely panic in drastic situations. Capricorns are traditional. They care more about the rules, have a set of values and principles they follow and are intolerant to others when they don’t. They are patient and plan things step by step very carefully. Capricorns plan long term goals and wait. Capricorns are cautious not reckless are careful and won’t take risks unless they know the pros and cons before they take action. Capricorns are focused individuals and really serious out all the signs are ambitiousness and completely passionate to reach their ambition when it comes to their convictions. Capricorns do whatever it takes to achieve their goals. They don’t care about the means on how they do it as long as it gets them closer to the success of achieving it. Capricorns will not share their true thoughts easily unless they have to. They are closed mouth when it comes to sharing info and withheld important information to themselves from others for their own gain. They are very resourceful. They work with the tools that are given to them. They are hardworking when it comes to reach that ambition to the point. They're considered workaholics which caused them to be detached from their surroundings. Capricorns keep their distance from others to complete their convictions. Though they appear cold on the surface that is merely an image they project: deep down they have a tender sentimental heart kept hidden under a harsh exterior. Capricorns put up walls around themselves to guard their tender hearts from other people. They may seem unemotional on the surface, but underneath they are driven and determined to set out to complete their goals. They are introverts seen as a wallflower in larger groups, in which they feel that they are out of their element. One thing Capricorns are is that they are loyal. Capricorns are family-oriented: they love being around people they love and are incredibly loyal to them they are willing to happily bend over backwards for the people they love this trait  is what makes them great friends and family members. They will distance themselves from said family if a member is perceived to be violent and harmful. A negative trait a Capricorn has its that they are unforgiving. They are serious about grudges to the point of vengeance. If you cross one you would never make it back to a Cawpricorn’s good side. They will hold grudges on others behalf (this part shows just how loyal they are to their loved ones). There’s no changing a Capricorn's mind once it’s made up.

Dabi is cool,serious and aloof. He’s the most serious minded out of all of the LOV, as seen in his deamanor in the missions that are given and the LOV activities in Smash. He’s grounded when he’s dealing with the LOV shenanigans and gets exasperated at their antics in Smash. Dabi may not have ambitions, but he has unbendable convictions. He's very determined to set out to complete his goals no matter the cost; he's so focused on completing his objectives that he has detached from other people to complete his goals.

That's something I noticed in Dabi’s character: that he has a conviction that he’s willing to do whatever it takes to achieve. Dabi working for a villain organization is proof of that the didn’t care about what the means are as long as he completed his objective.

Dabi’s cool headed whenever he’s in drastic situations you can argue that he’s indifferent to his surroundings but he’s acutely really calm whenever there's a crisis. You rarely see him panic in a given situation.

Dabi looks indifferent and crude however he follows a set of principles and values the LOV don’t. Dabi uses Stain’s ideals as a foundation he follows to bring down false heroes and wielding power with conviction.

Dabi is incredibly intolerant of other people: he insults those who don’t have any principles or values. Dabi insults Himiko, questions if the LOV follow a just cause, and wonders why the LOV don’t have any principles in the game Ones justice Dabi burns the back alley thugs calls them trash just because they wield power have no ambition in their bodies.

Dabi’s patient and preserving he plans things accordingly and waits for the next move. He was put in charge of the Vanguard action squad by Tomura himself. Dabi is cautious and doesn’t act too recklessly. In the beginning of the raid he tells the members to wait not act just yet. He uses his flames to hide the location of the meeting place when they complete their objectives; despite three casualties he successfully completed the mission in capturing Katsuki. Hawks and Dabi planned the High-End Nomu attack on the city After Endeavor defeated High End, he appeared and said “this isn’t what I planned,” which meant he didn’t think endeavor would defeat High End.

Dabi is careful when he uses his quirk. He knows its weaknesses fairly well and is careful in how he uses it the reason why he was absent in the LOV fight with Gigiatitinmachina for a month is because he’s well aware of the weakness his quirk processes and knows if he uses it too long his flames burn the skin off his body.

Dabi is cautious when it comes to people, as seen when he doubts whether the LOV follow the cause after Himiko’s introduction and didn’t trust Hawks during their partnership.

Dabi is detached to anything in his surroundings to focus on himself and his goals. Dabi is closed mouthed when it comes to sharing info especially details about himself. Capricorns are known for putting a lid on their feelings from others; Dabi keeps things to himself most of the time. He’s tight lipped whenever it comes to details about himself, he brushes off Tomura’s question about his real name, he didn’t share other details about the Nomu to Hawks.

Dabi’s rude and derisive demeanor keeps others at a distance so he would focus on his objective but also puts walls around himself from other people to guard his heart with his cold unemotional sarcastic and detached facade; underneath all that he hides his sentimental side. Dabi’s emotional side that keeps hidden by heavily guarding his heart is seen when he never opens up to the LOV even after he joined. Dabi still put up a distance with them and doesn’t share his true thoughts that easily he keeps himself.

When Dabi remembers Snatch’s words regarding family, he laughs about it while wiping blood from his seam below his eye says with this line “overthought things and kinda snapped there!” When he thinks about Snatch’s words on family some of his emotions flooded out this is where you see a glimpse on his tender heart. We see a personal side of Dabi that he usually keeps hidden.

Even after he joined the LOV, Dabi is seen in the background quietly observing his surroundings with empty eyes though it may seem like he is still being distant with them actually like a capricorn he's not into large groups of people he feels that it’s out of his element he has more a wallflower persona he not someone who prefers large groups of people his introverted nature shows through here.

One thing I read about Capricorns is that their loyalty: but what does loyalty half to do with Dabi?

Dabi might seem loyal to the LOV’s motives but if you look at it differently Dabi uses the LOV for his own gain to complete his goals, much like he does with Hawks. He's loyal to his own interests. Dabi wouldn’t work unless there's something in it for him based on his cooperation is based on those self interests alone. I mentioned before he's using the LOV and Hawks to achieve his own ends even says so to Tomura in Ujiko’s lab that he’s looking out for himself.

Though Dabi has a set of principles based around Stain that he uses in his own set of values. Saying that he's loyal to Stain’s ideals sound no more than an excuse to hide his personal motives. His actions are more personal than what he seems to do.

I believe the part about loyalty has a lot to do with family. If Dabi is Touya this might have more to do with his goal since its related to family. Capricorns are family oriented signs: you can see this similar trait in Ochaco and Shoto, both of whom have motives in becoming  heroes linked to their own families. Ochaco wants to become a hero to financially support her parents ; Shoto’s mother is one of his driving forces in becoming a hero during an All Might interview he watched. Just like Ochaco and Shoto, Dabi’s motives are driven by family. Dabi caring about his family is seen as Touya, he played with his siblings and he was close to Natsuo when he was younger.

Capricorns are unforgiving when someone has wronged them. Once you get on their bad side it's impossible to make it back in their favor this will go to the point of vengefulness. Capricorns will hold grudges on others behalf showing how loyal they are to their loved ones. As I previously talked about, Dabi’s own actions are stemmed from hatred which meant that Dabi’s real objective is to get revenge on Endeavor for abusing him and the rest of his family. Dabi is Touya getting revenge on Endeavor would go hand in hand with the vengeful aspect of the Capricorn. Dabi if Touya doesn’t just only want to get revenge on Endeavor for his suffering but the suffering he put the rest of his family through.  

Capricorns are winter signs, which  might hint that Dabi if Touya has a fire quirk but an ice body.

Another thing I noticed when I was reaching is that this star sign is very complex and contradictory this part would reference Dabi’s entire character in the series. The capricorn having the goat’s torso and the fish tale being both emotional and rational, which says all about Dabi’s character in a nutshell. He claims he is going to fulfill the hero killers will but in reality it's the more in it for himself. Dabi acts cold and logical at the surface but deep down he is emotional and driven. That is what Dabi’s star sign, Capricorn, represents.

Next is Dabi’s height being 176cm. His height bears a striking resemblance to Shoto’s height in his bio.

Dabi and Shoto are foils seen in their bios: their birthdays in the same month with both being capricorn’s, similar height

All this info references Dabi being Shoto’s a villainess parallel, and further hinting at the connection between them.

Last but certainly not least Dabi’s favorite thing is put under as unknown. In MHA, the characters likes in their bios say something about their personality, quirk, and role in the story. Shoto for example his favorite thing is Soba noodles (the kind that aren’t hot).

Soba noodles comes in both hot and cold reference to his quirk half hot half cold. Shoto only liking them it cold referenced on how he favors using the ice side of his quirk, and soba being a traditional Japanese food also refers to Shoto being a traditional Japanese character in design.

Dabi’s favorite things are put under as unknown this further exemplified the mystery of Dabi’s character and further correlates to the mystery he has and his essence being hard to grasp for the audience.

What do you think of Dabi bio does it match with his character? Is there anything I left out?Something I forgot to mention in this post? If you think feel free to put here in the post.

#dabi is a todoroki #Dabi #my meta #meta #touya todoroki #the whole star sign thing took the longest to write #I had to go through pages in order to write ti #but the capricorn star sign matches dabi well #star sign #my last meta of the year

[ninjabucky]

Reconcile - Part 5

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky and reader talk about things, they reconcile their relationship on a new page.

Word Count: 2,013

Warnings: Deep feelings, Fluff, Smut, this is for 18+ :) Please avoid if you're underage. 

A/N: An absolute HUGE thank you to my girl @simsadventures​ for proof-reading this for me and helping me with the smut!!! Feedback is extremely grateful! I'm also sorry for the wait :)

Masterlist

Previously:

The walk home was tense and you couldn’t understand what the hell was going on. There is no way Bucky would have just given up his badge without someone blackmailing him. You glance towards his house and the bike is still gone, you sigh and walk into your house, shutting the door behind you with a deep sigh.

“I’ve been waiting for you.” Bucky’s voice startles you and you turn quickly to find him sitting on your couch with two beers on the table. He pats the seat next to him. “We gotta talk, doll.” 

You joined Bucky on the couch and quietly thanked him as he offered you a beer. Your lips pursed around the rim of the bottle and your eyes fluttered around the room. Some candles were lit on your television unit and you didn’t notice until now, but the lights were also dimmed. 

“Why did you leave the club?”

“I want a better life. A normal life.” He shrugged and took a swig of his beer. You wanted to ask more but knew better than anyone not to push Bucky too much. If he didn’t want to answer something, he wouldn’t.

“So…” Bucky trailed off, his arm stretched out across the back of the couch. “was Rumlow the only reason you distanced yourself from me? I didn’t do anything to hurt you?” 

You leaned back into the couch more comfortably and crisscrossed your legs to face Bucky. You shook your head and sighed. 

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong, Buck. It was just after he…” You groaned at the disgusting memory.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Bucky whispered and stretched his hand to stroke your cheek. His touch sent a shiver down your spine. 

“After he touched me, I lost myself and I felt so ashamed to talk about it. But I realize now that would have been the best thing to do.” You kept your gaze on the foot of the coffee table as you spoke, afraid if you made eye contact you would have crumbled under his gaze. “I’m sorry.”

“Y/N. Listen to me, doll. What happened wasn’t your fault and I know how easy it is for a woman to blame herself in these situations. He’s a fuckin’ pig and deserves everything my boys have planned for him. He’ll never touch you again, I promise.”

“Thank you, Buck.” You smiled softly. 

“I was lost without you too, doll. Many nights I woke up and kept looking for you. I thought that if I tried to move on with someone else it would fill the hole I had left in my heart because breaking up with you was never part of the plan, I just didn’t know what to do.” Bucky exhaled as he sipped his beer. 

“And I was lost without you. I should have listened to you, Buck. You are always right.” 

“Not always, doll. It killed me when you started dating him, I was scared he was going to destroy you and he did.” 

“Please don’t blame yourself for that. It was my mistake, you warned me and I didn’t listen to you.” You sighed. “You mean a lot to me, Buck. You really do.”

“You mean more to me doll. I don’t think I can live without you. Every day, I’m thinking about you. I think about what you’re doing, hoping you’re okay. Did you get enough sleep last night? Or who takes care of you when you’re sick, and stuff like that ya know?” 

“You’re a sweet guy. Hey, do you remember that one winter where we wore shorts and took a picnic to the beach and it rained the entire time?” You smiled at the memory.

“And we both got sick?” Bucky chuckled and shook his head. “We were both crazy.”

“I was crazy for you.” You giggled and pulled your lip between your teeth. 

“I still am crazy for you.” He said seriously. “I’ve missed you, doll.”

“I’ve honestly missed you too, so much.” You swallowed the lump in your throat. 

“I’ll do anything to make it up to you, doll. I want to earn your forgiveness for letting you go too easily without asking if there was a reason behind your changed behavior. I want to earn the right to call you my girl again and I fucking promise you, I swear on my life. I will never let you go again. I’ll marry you.” 

You processed his words and searched his eyes for any inclination of a lie but you found none. Bucky had no reason to lie to you. 

Bucky learned his lesson the first time he let you go, he would not make that mistake again. The two of you had never previously discussed marriage. It was never on Bucky’s mind until that morning he woke up without you next to him. 

You leaned over and pressed your lips on his. Bucky seemed shocked by your forwardness but quickly kissed you back once he put down his beer. His hand snaked around the back of your head to pull you closer, the kiss quickly turning passionate; a fight for dominance as your teeth and tongues clashed with each other. 

Your hand snaked up his thighs. You palmed his growing hard bulge through his jeans and he moaned. His teeth caught your bottom lip and gently tugged on it. 

When you both became desperate for air, he pulled away. 

“Wow.” You grinned. It had been a while since you were kissed like that. 

“Come to bed with me, doll.” He whispered. His breath fanned over your lips and you shuddered. 

Bucky stood up in front of you and held his hand out. He interlaced his fingers with yours and pulled you up. With a quick peck to your lips, Bucky smirked as he guided the two of you to the bedroom. Bucky kicked the door behind him with his foot. 

Bucky stood in front of the bed and pushed you backward. His eyes wandered down the whole length of your body, and you suddenly felt small under his stare. Bucky kneeled on the bed between your parted thighs and leaned down to capture your neck with his lips. His hands roamed over your breasts, gently squeezing them. His fingers slipped under your shirt and pulled it over your head. He took a moment and admired how gorgeous you were and this was his realization that he really did miss you. 

You smiled up at him, your hands traced up and down his arm, you loved the way his biceps flexed under your touch. 

Bucky reached around and unclasped your bra, your breasts falling free with a slight bounce, your nipples stood proudly thanks to the cold air blowing in from the open window. 

“God, baby. I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed you.” He rasped, taking your left nipple in his mouth and gently sucking on it. You gasped and leaned into his mouth. His left hand cupped your other globe. 

Bucky trailed kisses down your chest to your stomach. In the past, you’ve had sex with Bucky many times, but this felt different. This felt more intimate. Bucky kneeled on the floor and unbuttoned your jeans, he slowly pulled them down with your underwear and threw them somewhere in the corner of the room. Bucky grasped your legs and pulled you to the edge of the bed. Your legs were bent towards your chest where you held them. 

Bucky’s tongue licked through your folds and circled your clit, applying the right amount of pressure. You threw your head back and closed your eyes. You couldn’t remember the last time someone was able to make you feel this good, Bucky could have even been the last person to do that. 

His thick fingers prodded your entrance and easily slipped in two fingers. Bucky curled them against your walls where you clenched around them. His tips rubbed your sensitive spot and a moan fell from your lips. 

You were so driven by the pleasure that every stroke of his tongue and fingers made you feel like you were floating in the air. It didn’t feel real. 

As Bucky sped his ministrations up, you began to pant. Your fingers wrapped around your thighs harder, you were sure you were leaving bruises. 

“Bucky…” 

“Hmmm come for me, doll.” His voice vibrated against your clit and you were gone. You came in seconds in his mouth. His gentle strokes slowed down and your body quivered with sensitivity. 

Bucky gave some final kisses to your thigh and stood up, removing his jeans and the rest of his clothes. You scooted up towards the pillows and he crawled up the bed towards you. 

His hands massaged your breasts as his raging hard cock moved up and down between your sensitive folds. 

“You ready, baby?” His voice came out like a growl and you hummed. Bucky pushed the tip in and very gently slid forward until he was sheathed all the way in. You missed the way he filled you up. You wrapped your legs tighter around his waist and Bucky slowly began to move. He pulled almost all the way out, and snapped his forward again, creating the perfect rhythm and pace.

The slight pain you felt quickly switched to pleasure. Your head rolled all over your pillow as the pleasure consumed you. He was so deep and touched spots you never knew existed, and spots he never found before. 

“Bucky… oh my god!” You moaned, holding his hands that were squeezing your breasts. 

“I know baby, feels so good,” Bucky grunted, his lips were slightly parted and his head was looking up towards the ceiling. Bucky’s balls slapped against your butt and the feeling alone could have made you come again. 

Moans, grunts, skin on skin and the bed squeaking created the sexiest symphony in the room. The sounds you didn’t hear for a long time. Bucky knew how to make you feel good. 

You waited until Bucky pushed himself back in and purposely clenched your walls around him. He moaned loudly and you felt him pulsing against you. 

His strokes were deep and hard. His tip poked your multiple sweet spots at once and you were seeing stars. 

Your eyes rolled in the back of your head as you came for the second time tonight. 

“Doll, shit!” Bucky gripped your waist tightly with his hands and plowed into you for the last few final thrusts. His hips stilled as his eyes screwed shut and dipped his head. He moaned as he emptied himself inside of you. 

You were both gasping for air and you felt sticky with sweat and the mixture of your cum. You felt Bucky soften and he pulled out, his come dripped down on the bedsheets by your butt and collapsed next to you. Bucky pulled you close to his body and wrapped his arms around you. 

“I’ve seriously missed you.” He said tiredly. 

“I’ve missed you too.” You smiled up at him before kissing him on the chest. 

Your eyes traced the multiple tattoos on his body and you noticed he had a new one. You lifted your head up to get a closer look at it and gasped. 

“Buck?” You traced the words with your fingertips and he shuddered. “That’s my name.” You stated, confused and happy at the same time. 

Your name was tattooed on the scroll of the red rose he had on his heart, an add-on to the skull one already there.   

“It is, doll.” He smiled and stroked your hair. 

You pecked his lips and asked, “But why?” 

“You’ve always had my heart.” 

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